


The Boy Who Cried Wolf: Chrysalis

by PoeticMilk



Series: THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ - Freeform, Anal Sex, AteEz PrEsEnt, Crime, Friendship, Goodies, Investigation, Lies, Love??, M/M, Mental Illness, Mentions death and suicide, NSFW in chapter 25, Obsession, Police, San has a difficult life, School, Self Harm, Smut, Smut in chapter 25, Stalker, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, Strong Language, Swearing, Theories, Uff okay, Violence, Wooyoung is an attention seeker, kinda cute, kinda psycho, mental health, mentioning of self harm, mentions abuse, missing person, tags will follow cause im bad at tagging, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 126,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeticMilk/pseuds/PoeticMilk
Summary: Wooyoung is simply a boy who loves attention. In fact, he would do anything for it. After he made up a story about a stalker he is at the brink of losing everything. But it turns out that there was some truth behind his lie and that this stalker of his actually existed. And now he is intrigued. He hated himself for wanting to be close to him, for wanting to use him. And he hated how much they needed each other. Day in and day out he would cry for his wolf. Why not voluntarily go with him then?





	1. Prologue: The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> So, everyone. Here it is. I can’t believe I’m doing this again haha. This idea has been stuck in my head for over a year now.
> 
> Disclaimers...  
This story will contain sexual content.  
This story has different trigger warnings. Please have a look at the tags as I’ll be adding some from time to time.  
This is just fiction. Just a story. Read it if you like, don’t read it if you don’t want to. 
> 
> Goodies...  
I love putting more effort into things than I need to...That’s why I decided to prepare goodies for every chapter!  
With goodies I mean pictures & edits. I’ll try to make this as much fun as possible, for me and for you guys!
> 
> Now have fun with the Prologue of:
> 
> THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch the trailer for this fic at the end of the chapter! ♡

**THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS**

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

**PROLOGUE: THE BEGINNING**

For him, the world had always felt like a tight chrysalis in which he was trapped, in which he was unable to move freely, even though he technically was free. At least he thought he was, thought he was himself and thought he was happy. Well, he was happy. Always lucky. Was that even the same? He assumed that it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. It didn’t make any difference to him. But then, when he really got captured, locked away from the outside world he suddenly felt free. He could stretch, splay out his fingers and toes. Yes, suddenly he was free. What an unusual contradiction. But maybe he just hatched out of his uncomfortable chrysalis. He thought it was time for him to finally turn into that beautiful butterfly that he had always been supposed to be. 

During the time of his hatching he basically had been an 18 year old fool that would spend more time thinking about what was real and what not rather than finding a perfect hiding spot for his porn magazines. After 18 years of intense thinking he still hadn’t received any answers to the many questions he was holding and he was deeply convinced that he’d probably never get them. But that was fine with him, at least he’d never get bored then. 

He couldn’t say that he was dissatisfied with his life as he had always been that spoiled brat, the kid everyone envied in school and the center of attention wherever he was going. He would always get what he wanted, the word “no” didn’t exist in his vocabulary. But there was one thing he certainly had but couldn’t get enough of. It was attention indeed. From a young agehe had always been praised for everything, he didn’t know otherwise. He blamed his parents for it. They had always told him how perfect he was, what a wonderful child he was or, well, that he was the best kid out there. After being told that day for day he couldn’t help but believe it. It wasn’t his fault that he was so utterly self-centered and egotistic. He knew that and he knew that that was probably not how one should behave, especially not around other people, but he also didn’t care enough to change anything about this. Actually, no. He cared so much about himself that he wasn’t able to give up all the attention he’s being flooded with. He certainly never wanted to fight for attention but he was convinced that it was other people’s fault if they didn’t give him enough of it, so he would make sure they knew that he was pissed. So whenever it really happens that he was short on attention, the things he would do to get it back could take on dimensions people wouldn’t even think of. What he didn’t know was that this time, even for him it was a number too big. 

But besides not enough attention he really had everything he wanted. Well, maybe also except for friends. Real friends he should say. Friends are a nice concept in theory. They listen to you, support you. They agree with you and they are some kind of family but different from your parents or siblings. Some people even preferred their friends over their mommies and daddies or siblings, which he could understand. When he was 18 and before his hatching had started he was sure no doubt that he had friends. Real friends. Friends he didn’t exactly love but still liked more than his parents. But even they turned out to be a sheer lie, no true friends. And who believed in a lie twice? He certainly didn’t. He never made the same mistake twice.

He remembered how it had all started on a sunny afternoon in autumn when he was on his way home from school. It was an ordinary day, he had parted ways with his friends (he decided to keep calling them “friends” until he got to the point where they expose themselves as just people he used to know) and shortly after that when he was walking down the small street that would eventually lead him to his house, he got this weird sensation that one gets when feeling watched by someone. It was some kind of seventh sense. Nobody could really express this feeling, but everyone had experienced it at some point in their lives. He himself dubbed this feeling _unwanted telekinesis_ , in which the predator sends his prey some kind of signals to tell him or her that he or she was being watched. But no predator would ever tell it’s prey that he or she _was_ a prey, right? That’s why he said _unwanted_ telekinesis. It was nature giving the victim a chance to survive. It sure was a weird feeling, the prey didn’t know when it would be attacked and that was exactly how he was feeling in that moment. He could’ve been wrong. He hadn’t been the only person walking home. There were other students that happened to live in the richer neighborhood, people were driving around in their expensive cars and others came from work. But they were all busy with themselves, no one had taken notice of him nor looked at him. Even that he hated. He liked being looked at. At least usually he liked it. But that day it felt somewhat different. Eerie almost. 

Until he reached his house he would turn around several times as this weird feeling of being watched just simply wouldn’t disappear. But nothing. No one suspicious. But then, when he closed the front door behind his back, this feeling suddenly disappeared. However, what wasn’t gone was this opportunity that had formed from this event and that he shouldn’t miss if he was smart. Of course nothing had happened that day but it could have and that was enough for him. It was enough to make a drama out of it and to share it with the whole world. Especially because he’d been experiencing withdrawals from lack of attention. This new guy at school was attracting all the attention simply because he was tall and handsome and had spent a year abroad. This newbie kicked him from his throne by simply existing and he hated it. He was trying to retract the lost attention from his parents, but they were busy with themselves and their “very important business, kid. Stay out of it”. So he just had to do something about it. He had no choice. 

So on the same evening during the rare occasion of his family dining together, he showed off his 18 year long acting experience which he dared say was top notch and then told them about that weird man following him home from school. Yes, he knew that at that point he couldn’t have said for sure that there had been someone watching him, but he also couldn’t say that this hadn’t been the case. Right? So he wasn’t particularly lying. He was just displaying the different possibilities. But to his disadvantage, his parents didn’t seem to be concerned. So they just told him not to worry but to ask a friend to walk him home and if something happened, he should call his parents right away. As if they would answer their phones.

As you may have guessed, their reaction didn’t quite satisfy him. He knew his parents and he knew that they wouldn’t have called the police right away — which he also didn’t want to happen just yet — but they could’ve at least showed genuine emotions. That’s why his withdrawals grew stronger, his anger built up inside of him and there was no way he would let go of this opportunity. This story could get him maximum attention. This was his plan. His story. Or as he would later call it:

_ The beginning of his hatching. _

(Character Board - you can imagine the members like this hehe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	2. Addiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guysss chapter oneeee!!  
Before I wish you lots of fun with the chapter
> 
> I want to say thank you for your kudos and comments, I appreciate it with all my heart!  
I hope you like the really sloppy edits this time haha.
> 
> And
> 
> Now, have LOTS of fun with the chapter!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 1, Addiction**

** 제 1 장 ,  중독 **

He was very, very excited. In fact, when he woke up the next morning — and this even before his alarm clock rang — he spent several minutes staring at the ceiling, planning out scenarios in his head. He got so excited, his hand almost automatically found its way along his upper body down into his shorts. This wasn’t right. He knew that, but this only resulted in him getting even more turned on by this. But the alarm clock said no. Normally, he would’ve just stayed in bed to finish whatever he was doing, but that day was different. He got up the second his alarm clock went off, put on his clothes and ran downstairs like a five year old on Christmas Eve. On that day, he left his house as early as never before.

But of course, nothing had happened on his way to school. But why would it? Not even this subtle feeling of being watched was present. Maybe he really did over-exaggerate the day before. It didn’t matter, though. He spent the whole 15 minute walk thinking about everything he had planned about his story. He tried to be careful not to get too excited, though. Not in public. But he couldn’t help thinking about the turmoil he was going to cause. It really did feel like Christmas. Early Christmas. And after years of getting boring presents he would finally get what he had always longed for. Even more attention. What if he couldn’t handle all the attention? He stopped. Then he giggled. As if that was possible. Sometimes he was asking himself if there was anything wrong with him. He concluded that yes, there certainly was, but in the end he didn’t care one single bit. Why would he want to live a normal and especially boring life when he could get the best out of it? Wasn’t that what this whole concept of life was about? At least he thought so. This was his life and it was normal to be selfish.

School was something he neither loved nor hated. He had mixed feelings about it. Sometimes he tended to rather dislike school and sometimes he couldn’t wait to get there. Just like today. He wasn’t particularly bad in school, but he had also never come first place. That was something he left to his best friend. Grades didn’t bother him. Okay, maybe that was a small lie because he would always envy his best friend whenever he got praised or was set an example for the class. He really, really resented that. But then again, he was a friend, right? And since he was a good friend he forgave his best friend for stealing his attention from time to time. He somewhat forgave him at least.

When he entered the classroom he could already hear his friends laughing cheerfully. He on the other hand had put on an agitated expression just before he entered the room. It was his best friend that had noticed him first. He came up to him, laughing, shoving him someone’s phone in his face to show him a video. But he didn’t even look at the screen, faked a little smile and then sat down. After this, his best friend seemed worried and immediately started to ask him if he was okay. Patience is the secret to victory, so he just nodded, said it was nothing and opened his textbook to seem busy.

He didn’t say one word about anything until lunch break. Luckily, his friend was the type to overreact and overanalyze everything — to his advantage. After getting their food and sitting down, his friend started to press him with questions, saying that he could see something was wrong.

Okay, my friend, if you _really_ wanted to know...

A big sigh, a slight eye-rolling.

‘Alright. You know, yesterday when I was on my way home from school... there was someone watching me. The whole time. I didn’t really think much about it as I couldn’t make out who it was but today I noticed it again. I bet it’s nothing, I just feel weird’, was what he had said to his friend.

He could see his friend’s eyes widen, so he tried really hard to hold back a grin. His friend believed him. Well, why wouldn’t he? What he had told his friend was no lie. He had actually felt like that.

‘Oh, Wooyoung... are you sure? God, you must’ve been frightened. Maybe it was just someone who happened to live in the same neighborhood? Don’t you think?’

Perfect. That was exactly the reaction that Wooyoung had expected from his best friend. He did everything a good friend should do — believe him, then worry but try to find a reasonable explanation for it so to calm his friend down. So Wooyoung just nodded, smiled a bit and then kindly turned down the offer from his friend to walk him home. Why? Too soon. At one point in his story he’d need his friend to walk home with him, but not just yet. All he said was that he was probably a bit sensitive and just assuming things and that he would be able to walk home by himself.

‘Alright... but if something happens, let me know immediately! I’ll run straight to you. Or just call me if you feel safer that way. And let me know when you’re home or else I’ll be worried to death.’

‘I will. Thanks Yeosang.’

To be real honest, he really liked his best friend. He’d known him for several years now, they had first met in elementary school and since then they’ve been friends. They would meet up quite often, spend quality time together and Yeosang was one of the rare kind of friends that wasn’t hanging with him because of his money. There were enough people who used him to get free meals or to get into the good, expensive clubs but Wooyoung didn’t like being used. Instead, he liked using. So he had stopped going to clubs, even though he had just become old enough to get into them — legally — but started to spend more time with his best friend. Yeosang was caring, honest and slightly naive (that was why he had only told him about the stalker at first, to build a safe base) but he was what one could actually call a true friend. At least Wooyoung had thought so for a long time. What he would notice later on was that Yeosang was not naive. He in fact was just a good friend with a limit and Wooyoung happened to cross this limit. Sadly, Wooyoung wasn’t able to foresee that.

And then he walked home. Relaxed, slowly, and happy about the successful first stage of his plan. It had just went the way he had planned and if it kept going like that, his life would become a paradise on earth where the only currency would be attention. Why else was it called ‘to pay attention to someone’? But he didn’t pay attention to anything besides his joyful thoughts and his hopes for the day to be over as quickly as possible to continue with his plan. It had already started to feel like an addiction to him, he could feel the addiction creep up inside of him. And he loved it.

When he came home, he waited a couple of minutes and then texted his friend that he was home, put a smiley next to it and grabbed himself something to eat. A wonderful day at home alone. Somehow he was wishing for someone to be there who he could tell his plan to. He wanted to tell someone how much he was enjoying this and how happy he already was. He longed to write down what he was feeling but there just simply were no words that could possibly manage to capture his feelings. Besides, it was enough for him to just _feel_ it. This trancelike state had almost overshadowed the fact that he was feeling like being watched again. But this time, it was inside his house. Wooyoung ignored it. He ignored it even when he went to bed.

The following day, when it had finally come, his plan continued. Yeosang asked him if he had noticed something again yesterday, or if he had maybe seen something on his way to school. Wooyoung hesitated and shook his head but for the rest of the day he seemed rather absentminded. And he was thinking about a lot of different things indeed, which color he should dye his hair next for example. But when his best friend asked him if really nothing had happened because he seemed so very lost in thought, he tried to deny it, obviously not doing such a great job at it because the art behind it was that Yeosang would notice that something had actually happened (which it hadn’t) but _without_ directly saying it. So Yeosang kept asking until Wooyoung defeatedly gave in and told him that yes, this time he had seen a suspicious man hiding behind the corner when he turned around. _Obviously_.

Yeosang, worried as he was, asked him — in kind of an upset way — why he hadn’t told him right away or why he hadn’t called him or why, why, why. And Wooyoung quietly told him that he didn’t want to be a nuisance, that he didn’t want to make such a big deal out of it and that he didn’t want to annoy anyone besides that being exactly what he was trying to achieve. Oh, he loved himself. He loved, loved, _loved_ himself and his perfect plan and his perfect acting. Maybe pursue an acting career? He made a note to himself.

And Yeosang hit him slightly — how _dared_ he — and complained about how he could think something like that, that it was complete bullshit and next time he should tell him right away and so on, Wooyoung didn’t really listen to that crap. What would follow was the next step: walking home together. This time, Wooyoung admitted that he was in fact a bit scared and if he maybe could accompany him on his way, that would be really nice of him. And of course, the best friend he truly was, Yeosang agreed. Just as planned.

‘Hey guys. What’re you up to? Oh, you okay Wooyoung?’

_Oh, shut up._ Wooyoung looked up just to see the puppy eyes of Mr. Tall Guy hovering over them. He just couldn’t stand him. He’d been here for what, a month? And not one day had passed where a random girl didn’t give him gifts, just because he was like eight or nine centimeters taller than Wooyoung. In Wooyoung’s eyes Tall Guy wasn’t even that pretty. But of course, everyone nowadays went crazy for curly hair on guys. Well, Wooyoung didn’t. He liked his bleached, straight-as-a-ruler hair.

Wooyoung saw Yeosang open his mouth to probably say something along the lines of ‘Wooyoung is being follow by some shady guy’, but Wooyoung didn’t let him speak. Instead, he just said that he was perfectly fine and there was no need to worry. Maybe it came out a bit more sarcastic than he had intended it to be, but he didn’t care. He just looked at Yeosang with a ‘don’t tell him’ look, and so he kept quiet. Sadly, though, Mr. Tall Guy stayed with them until the break was over, and Wooyoung hated it.

As Wooyoung had already expected, nothing had happened on their way home together. His conclusion: he probably really overreacted. But Yeosang thought differently. Maybe he didn’t show up because someone, in this case Yeosang, was with him. Wooyoung said that this was ridiculous. But Yeosang was worried that the man would come back tomorrow, so he would definitely walk with him to school tomorrow morning! But Wooyoung refused, he couldn’t let that happen, because he had already planned his next step. And for that, he didn’t need Yeosang. In fact, he mustn’t be there. His excuse was that he was probably seeing things and that he would be fine walking by himself. In addition, it would be a detour for Yeosang. Because, you know, he didn’t live near the rich houses. A confident smile convinced Yeosang at last and he agreed to letting him walk alone the next day. Wooyoung was very satisfied with day two. He complained about the cleaning lady leaving open the gate again, completely disregarding that she had been off duty that day, then went in and took a hot and steamy shower.

The next two days were utterly boring because nothing had happened. Well, that’s what he had told Yeosang at least. Don’t worry, reader, it is not yet over. Wooyoung went to school all smiling while trying to ignore Mr. Tall Guy as best as he could and it worked fine. Wooyoung had bragged about finding a note in his jacket that said something along the lines of ‘you look like an angel, your smell is addictive’ — thank you, the perfume was very expensive — and how he should get a new jacket because it’s getting colder and he shouldn’t get sick. Heartwarming. Mr. Tall Guy was obviously all impressed that girls were even shoving notes into his jacket, but Wooyoung just brushed it off and said that it would happen all the time to him. So Wooyoung threw away the note like it was nothing, even though for him it had been the first time as well that a note was hidden inside his jacket.

Initially, Wooyoung wanted to wait three days, but after Yeosang stopped asking about the suspicious man, Wooyoung got impatient. So only two days later, Wooyoung walked half of his way to school, then stopped and hid in an alleyway and leaned against the wall. Phone out. Calling Yeosang. _Harrumph_. And then the call went through.

‘Yeosang?!’, Wooyoung squeaked. ‘This man. He’s back. I saw him. He... he was going after me. He was coming closer. I, I... Yeosang, he was right behind me.’

Yeosang was on fire! He said he should stay where he was, he said he’d go there immediately with a friend and that they would come and get him. And he kept Wooyoung on his phone until the second they arrived. Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile the whole time. Well, until they arrived, obviously. Sadly, Yeosang disappointed Wooyoung a little by bringing Tall Guy with him. That was the friend he was talking about? Ah, fuck it. Sooner or later he’d find out anyway. It was showtime.

Yeosang hugged him tightly. Wooyoung loved it. He was so worked up about it, almost more than Wooyoung himself! And then he told them what exactly had happened: He was on his way to school like always until he felt like being watched again. Then he was hearing footsteps. They had become louder and faster and then he turned around. And there he was. A man, probably in his thirties or maybe forties, dressed in black with a black cap and a face mask. He seemed just as shocked as Wooyoung, and then he ran away. He was also carrying a camera, yes, it must’ve been a camera. Wooyoung was so scared that he had to stop walking. He was too scared that the man might come back because he had noticed him now.

Yeosang held his hand, told him that that was too scary, that they maybe should inform someone. Wooyoung didn’t say anything. All he did was enjoy the back-stroking, the hugging, and the head-patting. He loved this. He loved this so much. But someone was a bit skeptical. Mr. Tall Guy.

‘Are you sure? I mean, he’s not the only guy dressing in black and wearing face masks. In fact, almost everyone dresses like that. Maybe he was just startled by you as much as you were startled by him. You do kind of look like a ghost with your silver hair, haha.’

_Shut up._ Shut up, shut up, shut up. Wooyoung was furious. How dared he say that to him?! In this kind of situation? Did he not have a heart? Poor Wooyoung.

‘Mingi, stop it. It doesn’t matter, what matters is that Wooyoung’s scared. Besides, it was not the first time he saw him.’

Exactly. Did you hear that? What mattered was Wooyoung and Wooyoung alone. If Yeosang hadn’t put Mingi into place, Wooyoung could’ve lost his temper. Why would Tall Guy say such bullshit?! The man was obviously after him and Wooyoung didn’t look like a freaking ghost, he looked like an angel — just like it said on the note that he had received. Wooyoung got so worked up about this internally, he told himself over and over again his fake story that for a moment he forgot that all this was fabricated, that there had been no guy. But he could see this non-existent stalker so clearly in front of his eyes, he might as well get a police sketch done. But Mingi then gave in and said well, you can calm down now because we’re here. Thank you but fuck you, asshole.

On their way to school, Mingi asked a lot of dangerous questions. No, he didn’t want to report to the police because there was not enough evidence. No, he didn’t want to talk to his parents because they wouldn’t believe him. Yes, sure, you can walk him to school, thanks for being so concerned, but actually, if Yeosang came alone, it would do too. But no, no, he lived just near Yeosang, so they could come together. Three are better than two. Sure, now shut up. He didn’t like Mingi. He thought of him as kind of troublesome. And yet, Wooyoung somehow didn’t feel safe, even with his friends being around, even with this whole story being a lie. But when they arrived at school and told some closer friends about what had happened, more and more people took a whiff of the  _ Wooyoung Stalker. _ And boy, he loved the attention he got. He loved how crowds were forming around him, how Mingi stood apart, alone, and for the first time without any stupid gifts. Wooyoung was happy.

But apparently happiness doesn’t last for too long. The following days Wooyoung got escorted by Yeosang and Mingi (_urgh_). The first day he was really happy about it — at least he acted that way — but it started to annoy him and it had to stop because he had to continue with his plan. And because he was constantly with his friend (and Mingi), nothing could happen and so, the story about the Wooyoung Stalker started to vanish into thin air inside people’s heads. Then Wooyoung happened to walk alone again.

So on one evening, he sat down in front of his desk with a bunch of blank papers and a pencil and then he began thinking about what he loved about himself. Sadly, that didn’t make it much easier because he just simply loved everything. He couldn’t quite decide on what he wanted to write down. But then he leaned back and closed his eyes. What would he say to his victim as a stalker? Something that sounded subtle but eerie, something that would make it clear that there was indeed a stalker. Then he started writing, scrapped multiple ideas, started over again and finally, with an altered handwriting, the little letter was complete:

_ You are so mesmerizing. It hurts how scared you are, when you really have no reason for it. You can pretend I wasn’t there, but I am. And we will meet again, my treasure. _

Short and precise. He was satisfied with what he had written down, even though it wasn’t much. He stared at the little note, put down his pen and then shoved it into his backpack. Then he turned off the little light, walked over to his window and stared out of it for a few seconds. It sure had become colder. He was wondering when the first snowflakes would fall, but then again it was not yet winter. Then he lowered the blinds. Usually, he would just leave them open because he hated how the wind constantly pressed them against the window. But on the other hand he felt so exposed with everyone being able to look inside. And besides that, it wasn’t windy that day. In fact, it was so, so calm.

The next day in school he obviously showed around the letter he had received, he almost even fake cried. Yeosang was so worried, he didn’t let go of Wooyoung’s hand. People were comforting him, hanging around with him during the breaks. They bought him something to drink, which he appreciated even though he didn’t like lemon soda, but whatever. All in all, he was enjoying this so much, he’d never liked going to school as much as he did now. But Mingi, still holding the note that Wooyoung gave around, sighed. He sighed so loudly that all the words of comfort stopped for a moment. What now?

‘I don’t know. This seems so unreal to me. This can be just another letter from a girl. Didn’t you say you were receiving a lot of these?’

‘Yes, I dI’d, but none of this kind. No one talks like this either. This must be from that weirdo.’

Eye rolls. Why couldn’t he just shut up for one second?

‘Well, if you’re so sure about it being a stalker, why don’t you finally go to the police? You didn’t even tell your parents, did you? You of all people seem the least scared.’

He could just stand up and choke-

‘Mingi! I think everyone handles things like these differently. He’s probably in shock right now. See, even if he told his parents, they wouldn’t care. Stop being so insensitive about this.’

Wooyoung buried his head into Yeosang’s shoulder, smiling. Oh, you _sweet_ boy.

‘I’m just saying. Maybe this is not what it seems like, you know?’

‘What are you trying to imply here?! That he’s made all this up? Wooyoung could never do this.’

Now that was mean. Why did he think Wooyoung couldn’t come up with such a master plan? Did he just indirectly call him dumb? How mean. But seeing Yeosang fight for Wooyoung like that, he let it slip. He wanted to completely indulge in this feeling of comfort, this shower of attention. Mingi didn’t bother him anymore, not so long as he had his little protector by his side. So Mingi backed off. Just right so.

Later, when school was over, Yeosang couldn’t go with him because he had one of his thousands of different school clubs going. Wooyoung didn’t care, actually, Yeosang was way more worried than him, he even said he’d skip the club. But Wooyoung said it was fine. He said he would text him as soon as he got home, he was no baby. And even if Yeosang resisted, Wooyoung went home alone. But he didn’t come far. Behind him, he heard someone scream his name and he couldn’t help but flinch before he turned around. Oh, _great_.

‘Hey, Wooyoung. Thought I’d go with you. I’m on my way home too.’

Wooyoung just nodded, then turned away from Mr. Tall Guy. He didn’t want to talk to him and he got even more upset when he thought about Yeosang probably being behind this. He sighed.

‘Listen, Wooyoung. I wanted to apologize. Sorry I didn’t trust you. It just seems so unreal, you know? That this might happen to someone I know.’

‘You _don’t_ say.’

What? Didn’t they have stalkers overseas? Besides, the stalker issue in South Korea was growing as fast as his armpit hair. He shouldn’t be so surprised. Until they reached Wooyoung’s home, he had said nothing but simple  _ hms  _ and _uh-huhs_ to Mingi who was going on and on about the most random and boring things he’d ever heard. He was happy it was over.

‘Thanks for bringing me home. See you.’

‘Do you have security cameras?’

Wooyoung turned around to look at Mingi. He told him that they didn’t but then asked him why he wanted to know that.

‘Well, I certainly don’t want to scare you or anything... but if I were you and this stalker really existed, I’d invest in some cameras. Better safe than sorry.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing, don’t worry. See you tomorrow.’

Wooyoung stared at Mingi until he disappeared behind a corner. He didn’t need any cameras because there was no one stalking him. So he closed the gate and walked up to the front door. Did he really not need any?

The Wooyoung Stalker was a hot toptic in school and even after a week people were still coming up to him, asking if there was anything new, if he had seen the man again. Nothing really, he would say, but he was still scared. But thanks to Yeosang, he felt much safer. They agreed on walking home together from school whenever Yeosang could but in the morning Wooyoung could manage walking alone. It was much more dangerous at night, when it’s dark obviously. Mingi sometimes accompanied them and to be fair, Wooyoung didn’t even bother as much anymore. In fact, he started to see why people were so obsessed with that man. He was charming, funny and indeed handsome. But seeing why people liked him didn’t make him any more likable to Wooyoung. He simply accepted his presence, they weren’t friends or anything like that. He just wasn’t as much a pain in the ass as he was before. And sometimes he even comforted Wooyoung, too. He had finally gIvan into the fact that this stalker thing was real.

But addiction is a very dangerous thing. Imagine being addicted to cigarettes. At first, two cigarettes a day are enough. But slowly you’d realize that you needed more, thus increasing the amount of cigarettes a day and by that your addiction grows. It will become harder and harder to stop and then you end up smoking two or more packs of cigarettes a day. The same was going on with Wooyoung and his addiction to attention. At first, the amount of attention he got out of his lie was enough for him. It didn’t decrease or anything, people were still talking about it, but it just simply wasn’t enough anymore. He needed more of it. Way more. He wasn’t satisfied with it anymore. So he had to get on with his plan. But maybe this time he’d gone too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
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> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	3. Paranoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMERS for this chapter:  
Includes & mentions self harm 
> 
> Besides that, please enjoy today‘s chapter and y‘all better watch the Japanese version of Utopia ♡  
Have fun!!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 2, Paranoia**

**제 2 장 , 편집증 **

A moment of silence, everyone. You are about to witness the death of a wonderful story, a wonderful opportunity washed away by waves of desire and cravings. Cravings for attention that drove him crazy in need for his drug. As smart as he believed he was, in the end he was just as foolish as everyone who had once fallen for his lie. He’d been too sloppy. He should’ve known better. But what happened, happened. He couldn’t change it anymore. In the end, he wanted to believe that it was for the better. At least all the rats finally showed themselves. In fact, his story hadn’t come to an end. His story had just begun.

Wooyoung wasn’t satisfied anymore with how things were. Sure, sure, he would get his daily dose of attention whenever he came to school but what was so special about some useless back-stroking? He didn’t need to be asked the same boring questions over and over again. It wasn’t enough for him in the end. It never was. But don’t misunderstand him. He was thinking a lot about wether he should do what he was about to do, or not. He’d spent days just thinking about it, and with every day his desire to do it grew stronger. Even if he didn’t want to do it, he had to. Even if he refused, it would bug him until he gave in. It was as if someone was pulling on the strings that had turned him into a puppet, designated to fall apart and die if he didn’t obey the orders. 

It was a normal day. The sun was shining, even though Wooyoung was trembling from the cold. Don’t misunderstand this, he wasn’t nervous. He didn’t realize that he was, at least. It was just cold. Nothing more, nothing less. School was waiting, but he stopped midway. He walked into a small alleyway to make sure nobody saw him. Then he let his backpack slide from his shoulders. Inhale. Exhale. He grasped at his left sleeve, tearing it apart with a loud ripping noise. 

‘Fuck!’ Wooyoung hissed. He held his hand in front of his eyes, observing the tiny flaps of skin underneath his fingernails. He looked at his shoulder just to see red marks stretched over them. It  _ burned _ . But he liked the idea. Initially, he hadn’t thought about self-inflicting wounds, his pure skin just simply was too precious to him. But that had changed now. No one would believe he got chased down by a violent stalker if he looked perfectly fine. Alright. Then let’s do this. As much as he hated it, as much as it burned, he decided to rip his skin open in more places than just his shoulder. It wasn’t as easy as he thought. Ripping skin open shouldn’t bee too much of a big deal, but Wooyoung was struggling with doing it. He didn’t know how much strength was enough or how much would be  _ too _ much. Sometimes he needed more than one attempt to get through his skin, until it turned red from blood. It felt like he got bitten by thousands of ants all over his arms, on his neck. Internally, he laughed at himself. He hated himself for being such a baby. People did these kind of things with knives or razorblades and didn’t even wince. Yet here he was, struggling to scratch his baby skin. He was ashamed. He wanted to do this right but he wasn’t man enough, he thought. He wasn’t man enough to injure himself, that’s what he had thought. Then he stopped, messed up his hair (this part he actually hated more than hurting himself), grabbed his backpack and ran to school as though a bunch of bulls were chasing after him. But there were none, dear reader. Just a wolf and a little sheep staring in shock at the running shepherd boy. 

When he arrived at school, out of breath, people quickly realized what had happened. A crowd formed around him, Yeosang was holding back his tears, he looked so cute doing that, and everyone else was just so, so caring. And Wooyoung? Wooyoung could finally breathe. The air he sucked into his nostrils was so refreshing, so invigorating, he felt like he was high. This felt like a dream to him. As cold as it was, Wooyoung felt warm. He felt so warm, so loved, he couldn’t help but smile after getting hugged over and over again. That day was the best day of his life, indeed, he thought. Unless it wasn’t. He would find out that it was the beginning of the worst time of his life. And after some time, having just arrived at school, Mingi appeared in Wooyoung’s eyesight. Today of all days he looked taller, somewhat menacing. His facial expression wasn’t the cheerful one Wooyoung and everyone else was used to. He looked so scary, Wooyoung felt a cool shiver run down his spine.

Mingi joined the crowd, and after hearing what had happened, he asked Wooyoung again how he got away from the mysterious man. 

‘As you were told. I kicked him in the shin, then I just ran and didn’t turn around once. I was scared to death.’

‘_Uh-huh_. And he pinned you down, yes? You must be really strong, Wooyoung. And then he just gave up chasing after you?’

Oh, Wooyoung hated Mingi. He hated him so much. 

‘What are you, a police officer?’, Wooyoung groaned.

‘No, but maybe you should finally talk to one. See, I don’t think you’re telling the whole truth!’

For God’s sake, shut up! Shut up, Mingi! Shut your damn mouth, stop it! Wooyoung was enraged. He could physically feel the anger crawl up his throat, urging hin to shout at Mingi. He mustn’t do that. Wooyoung was fascinated at how this man could make all the happiness he had felt just three seconds ago vanish into thin air by just speaking. He was fascinated at how much he felt threatened by him, asked himself why Mingi doubted him so much, and had doubted him from the beginning. Had he overlooked anything? Had he maybe made a silly mistake and Mingi noticed? But then again, why did no-one else notice? 

‘Mingi, shut it! He has bruises all over him. I think we talked about this, didn’t we? Wooyoung would never lie about stuff like this. So just mind your own business if you can’t do anything else than just accuse him of horrible things!’

Yeosang, _sweetheart_, you are doing great. How proud he was, he felt like his dog had finally learned how to give paw. Wooyoung was astonished. He was partly shocked at how naive Yeosang was, yet maybe he was just a good friend. No, no, kudos to him. He was a wonderful friend, a friend Wooyoung truly needed in his life. 

And then they left Mingi by himself. Everyone else didn’t care what he had to say. In the end, he was just jealous of Wooyoung. Jealous that he didn’t get the attention Wooyoung was getting. He was sad that for once his little fangirls didn’t go after him but after Wooyoung instead. And then Yeosang took Wooyoung to the infirmary to look at his wounds. Yeosang was pretty worried, though. He told Wooyoung to talk to his parents, that he really needed to at this point and Wooyoung agreed, however knowing that he wouldn’t do so. Yeosang said that things had gotten out of hand, that this man was dangerous and that they didn’t know what else he was capable of. He even said that it was his fault, just because he thought it was safe enough for Wooyoung to walk by himself. Wooyoung said nothing, he just quietly enjoyed Yeosang’s soothing voice while he was patching up his wounds. Worth it. 

The rest of the day was just so wonderful. Everyone cared about him, tried to distract him from what had happened, they treated  _ him _ to lunch. Different people volunteered to lend him a shirt, it was just great. It satisfied him how everyone gathered around him. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he felt like Jesus, but he sure did feel like he was the only light source in the dark, attracting all the moths. He had been the center of attention indeed, and that for the next few days. And he was even happier than he could’ve imagined. He didn’t feel the urge to continue his plan, because people were still talking about it. He got his daily dose of attention, and for once it was enough for him. To be honest, he had almost forgotten about the stalker himself, while his friends were still too worried about him. Yeosang almost never left his side. He didn’t go to his stupid after-school clubs just to take Wooyoung home and eventually he could see Yeosang’s good reputation amongst the teachers decline. Wooyoung didn’t care. Yeosang neither. Because he was a good friend. But the best thing about this was that Mingi hadn’t been around. Not once. Wooyoung saw him in class, sure, but he neither talked to Wooyoung, nor to Yeosang. Yes, Wooyoung believed he’d finally learned his lesson. 

But Wooyoung had gone too far. What had to come would finally come and so one day, Yeosang came up to him and said he wanted to talk in private. And so they did. Wooyoung didn’t even think what was going to happen was possible. That it was one of the possible outcomes of his story. But it happened anyway. 

‘Are you lying to me?’

Wooyoung frowned. Mind to elaborate?

‘I mean the stalker. Are you lying about that?’

Oh  _ no _ . 

‘What? No! Why would I do something like that?’

‘I know, but... it’s just that somehow nothing ever happens when we are with you. Things only seem to happen when you’re alone. Also, if you were as scared as you told everyone, why don’t you finally call the police? Or at least talk to your parents, or a teacher. If they saw what happened to you they would most definitely do something.’

‘That man probably doesn’t want to attack me when with other people, didn’t you say so yourself?! You sound like you want something to happen to me!’, Wooyoung said, he sounded very offended. He just ignored everything else Yeosang had said. 

‘No, of course not, but-‘

‘Then why are you suddenly accusing me?!’

Oh no, oh no. What was happening?

‘Mingi saw you.’

What?

Silence struck Wooyoung. He wasn’t sure if he heard him correctly. Mingi did what? Mingi  _ saw _ what? 

‘Mingi saw you hiding in an alleyway and tearing your clothes apart. He saw you freaking hurting yourself!’

So that was why Mingi was so skeptical about him the whole time. He had seen him? But that wasn’t even on Mingi’s usual way to school.

‘You’re joking, right? Don’t believe what he’s saying, he’s made that all up! Why would he have been there that day?!’

‘Because he cared about you for fuck’s sake! Mingi was afraid something might happen to you because somehow things always happened on your way  _ to _ school! Not from! He simply cared! And what were you doing?! Fooling everyone around you with a fucking made up story, fuck, Wooyoung couldn’t you have lied about an expensive car or some shit like that?’

Never. Never had Wooyoung heard Yeosang use a swear word. Ever. Never had he raised his voice like that, especially not towards Wooyoung. For once in his life he didn’t know what to say. Was this really happening? He felt dizzy. Someone wake hip up now. Yes, yes, he knew he’d gone too far and he’ll make it right again he swore. Now please,  _ fuck _ , wake him up!

‘Yeosang that- that is not true. I didn’t lie!’

‘Oh my God just stop it! What the hell is wrong with you?! How- no,  _ why _ would you come up with such a gruesome story?! I bawled my eyes out for you, I was worried to death, I skipped school for you and yet you were laughing at me the whole time! And I was defending you day in and day out.’

People started to look at them, coming closer. What was this feeling? This wasn’t reality, this simply couldn’t happen. This wasn’t real. 

‘Yeosang...’

‘Don’t say my name. You’re an attention-seeking freak. Wake up, for fuck’s sake. The world doesn’t revolve around you! You’re... you’re just sick. I don’t want to speak to you ever again.’

...

It didn’t? The world didn’t revolve around him? Why not? Who would it revolve around then? Mingi, that fucking prick? Unimaginable. Wooyoung’s mouth stood open. The fact that they weren’t alone anymore was devastating. It was the exact opposite of what should’ve happened. He felt as if Yeosang had just torn him into pieces, millions and millions of pieces. Then he saw Mingi standing outside the circle that had formed around Wooyoung, simple staring at him before he disappeared together with Yeosang.

It was his fault. All his fault, all Mingi’s fault. If he hadn’t been there, nobody would’ve ever gotten suspicious. No one would’ve. Wooyoung hated him with all he had. He hated his face. He hated how he betrayed him. He hated Yeosang’s broken and disappointed expression, he hated how the people were standing around him, calling him names and swearing at him. It hurt so much, it hurt being a victim like this. And when the school bell rang, everyone, every single soul that he had once called a friend had turned their back and left him. It was only him now. 

He felt like vomiting. While everyone went into their classrooms, Wooyoung stormed into the direction of the toilets. The cabin door swung open with a  _ bang _ and Wooyoung started gagging. Let it out. It was better that way. It was the anger that had crawled up inside of him, anger he had longed to release but didn’t have the chance to. Anger that had Mingi’s name written all over it. He was shaking. He didn’t know why. Was it fear? Was it anger? Was it both? What would come next? Was it over? What about Yeosang? NDid he mean it?

Then he flushed. 

The following days were hell on earth for him. He became afraid of going to school, seeing the school building in the distance triggered his anxiety every freaking day. He would come up to Yeosang, tried talking to him but he was only met with ignorance and silence. Wooyoung had realized that Yeosang was no longer a naive fool. He was just fed up. Fed up with Wooyoung and he didn’t seem to want to resolve things. Wooyoung had gone too far, even for Yeosang who had tolerated all the dumb things Wooyoung had done in the past. If I may point something out, ignorance was the exact opposite of attention, so one could image how damaging this was for Wooyoung. Yes, it was almost traumatic. Almost? No, it certainly was traumatic. One couldn’t even imagine how it tore Wooyoung apart inside. How his blood froze to ice in his veins, how he wasn’t able to feel any sort of joy anymore. He slowly but surely was suffocating, suffocating in a space full of oxygen. 

And things didn’t seem to settle down. Wooyoung was sure he was getting paranoid. He himself knew for sure that the story was completely fabricated, it was him who made it up at last. But he maybe forgot that it was build upon an event that had actually happened. The day that had opened the doors to his fatal plan. Someone was watching him. And this someone, maybe it was his own guilt, didn’t disappear. This spirit was present every day on his way to school and on his way home. Maybe he’d become crazy. Maybe, just maybe, he was so pathetic that he still couldn’t let go of this horrible lie, even after it had already got busted. Why couldn’t he let go? Why, even after days and weeks after his friends had turned against him—why was he still feeling like he was living this lie? It had become so bad that sometimes he would hear footsteps. Sometimes he would see weird shadows follow him. He was trying to ignore all those signs, he was sure that must’ve been those severe withdrawal symptoms he’d been so scared of the whole time. They drove him so crazy he actually, just a little bit, started to feel remorse. But then again, he didn’t know whether he was unhappy about the fact that he had lied to his friends  _ or _ that his lie got busted. It didn’t matter to him, he just wished he could’ve turned back time. He wished he would’ve been more cautious. He wished he would’ve done better. This dream of maximum attention, it had bursted into million pieces, right in front of his eyes. And his friends? They were gone, just like everything else. He was all alone. 

And one morning, it all changed. When he took off his jacket (he’d bought a new one, a warmer one), a little note fell to the ground. When he opened and read it, he wasn’t sure what to think at first. Maybe read for yourself:

_ Don’t be sad, please don’t be sad. I don’t like seeing you like that. I am here, I am real, please, dear, don’t be sad. It suffocates me. You are not alone, I am here, right next to you. _

_ _

Was that a joke? Did someone try to fool him? He  _ swore _ , he swore by God and by what not he did  _ not _ write this piece of crap this time. If he had... he would’ve told you, dear reader! But no, he certainly did not. He convinced himself that it was someone from school. Someone was trying to fool him, no, someone was trying to get back at him. Was it Mingi? Oh, it sure was. That guy was dead, he was a dead man for giving Wooyoung a scare like that. Wooyoung couldn’t even sleep that night. He didn’t close one fucking eye. He didn’t try to figure out if it was because he was so angry or if it was because he was actually scared. A bit, just a bit. It was a really unethical joke that Mingi was trying to pull on him, and he would certainly pay for it. 

The next day at school, he went over to Mingi’s desk (one could notice the little presents shoved to the corner of his desk) and then he slammed the little note onto it, making one or two chocolate bars fall from the edge. 

‘What the hell was that for?’, Mingi asked him, noticeable shocked. 

‘That’s what I’m thinking. Why the hell would you give me that?’ Wooyoung pushed the little note closer to Mingi. 

He opened it, read it, then he let out a loud sigh, giving him a  _ this again? _ look. 

‘I asked you something. Why the hell would you shove this into my jacket, jackass?’, Wooyoung asked repeatedly. 

‘Wow, you seriously need help, don’t you? I didn’t fucking shove this anywhere. It wasn’t me. Now get out of my sight, I don’t want to talk to a liar.’

Wooyoung was confused. Was he telling the truth?

‘If it wasn’t you, then who wrote it?’, Wooyoung asked him, a bit calmer. 

‘What do I know, maybe you? Everyone’s sick of your story but seems like you aren’t.’

Then Yeosang came into the classroom, looking clearly confused. He asked what was going on, but Wooyoung just left. If Mingi really didn’t write it, then who was it? Even if nobody believed him, Wooyoung knew that he didn’t write that letter. And you, reader, you know it, too! But then he remembered something. He remembered that not too long ago, he had received a similar letter, a letter that he had also found in his jacket. Maybe they somehow were connected? Wooyoung ran outside. He knew exactly where to look. He opened the big dumpsters behind the school building, for a second not believing he was actually doing that. One could say it was impossible to find anything useful in there. But he started searching anyway. He knew exactly what he was looking for, so maybe that would make his search easier?

‘What’re you doing?!’

Wooyoung looked up, just to see the partly confused and partly disgusted expression on Yeosang‘s face. Wooyoung kept silent, then continued searching. But Yeosang pulled him back from the container. 

‘ _ What _ are you doing, for God’s sake!’, he asked again. 

Wooyoung instantly pulled back, freeing himself from Yeosang’s firm grip. 

‘Looking for that stupid note, I’m telling you, Yeosang. Either someone’s playing a trick on me or I’m fucking being stalked.’

Then Yeosang fell silent for a minute, looking at him, expression completely dead. 

‘So it’s still about this shit? I thought you were over it. No one’s playing you a fucking trick besides yourself. Get over it already.’

But Wooyoung shook his head.  _ You don’t understand _ , he had said ,_ it really wasn’t me. I swear_. 

Yeosang obviously didn’t believe him.  _ Sick _ , he had said.  _ You’re sick _ . 

Luckily, Wooyoung didn’t hear him. And he also didn’t hear him when he walked away, back into the building. He probably spent over an hour looking for the little piece of paper, finding nothing in the end. And then he just went home. Quickly, not looking back, locking the door behind him  _ twice _ when he arrived. He was convinced that if Mingi wasn’t the one who wrote him the note, it must’ve been some shady dude. Maybe a girl? He didn’t know. He didn’t  _ care _ . Maybe it wasn’t that bad either, he tried to say to himself. Maybe it was just someone crushing on him. That wouldn’t be the first time. It didn’t have to be a stalker. It didn’t have... to be a stalker. 

But it didn’t stop at that. In fact, it had just begun. One day, when Wooyoung came home from school, there was something lying on the ground, right in front of their front door. Mail? He picked the little letter up. No addressee, no sender. Weird. He just opened it. But what he found inside was not what he had expected. It was no junk mail. It was no bill. In fact, it were Polaroid pictures of him. Again: it were pictures of  _ him _ . Pictures of him, pictures of him. Wooyoung held the little photographs in his hand for approximately five minutes until it clicked. Those were photographs of  _ HIM _ . Those were pictures he didn’t take himself! Those were pictures from not three days ago! Those were pictures no-one else he knew could’ve taken of him! But that wasn’t the only thing that freaked him out. He noticed a small paper, with only one sentence written on it:

_ I haven’t seen you smile in over a week. _

He gasped for air. No. No, no, no.  _ No _ . A joke. This was all a joke. Wow, someone seemed to have been so pissed at him for pulling this kind of joke on him! Was it a joke? Please, let it be a joke! Wooyoung didn’t know what he found more terrifying. The note, or the pictures. Both? Probably both. Who were they from? This must’ve been a joke. It was a joke, he was sure. He ran upstairs, shaking. He pulled out the little note from not too many days ago and looked at them together. Same paper. Same handwriting. 

A joke. 

This was a joke.

Was this a joke?

Someone was pranking him.

Was someone pranking him?

He shook his head. He shook it so excessively, he felt dizzy. Ah, no. That was his mind playing tricks on him. No one was playing jokes on him, no one was trying to mess with him. No one was stalking him. It was all inside his head, yes, he knew it. It wasn’t such a big deal. He was overreacting. He was, yes, he, he was, he... he was... he was overreacting. 

When he was a kid, he would always hide underneath his bedsheets. He never really knew why he was hiding, but there must’ve been a reason. Every kid at some point in their lives did that, right? But if you hid down there for too long, your brain would start warning you about the lack of oxygen, demanding you to gasp for fresh air. That’s how the past days felt for him, as if someone had forced him to stay underneath his blanked where his brain screamed ‘Warning, warning! Lack of attention!’. He lacked attention indeed, his oxygen. As a kid, you would try to find the end of the blanket to draw air into your little nostrils, but when you couldn’t find the surface for just one second, you’d start panicking, right? It was the worst feeling ever. But he didn’t even feel as being trapped underneath a soft cotton blanket. He rather felt like being underneath a sheet of ice, floating in ice cold water without a chance of breathing, without being able to escape. 

For the first time in his life he felt pure anxiety. He was so scared, every single piece of hair on his body was stiff whenever he left the house. It wasn’t even the lack of attention. In fact, he gave a fuck about attention. He was panicking about the stalker. He was panicking about the fact that he hadn’t lied. That it was all real. That even when he thought he was alone, he wasn’t. He couldn’t tell imagination and reality apart anymore. Sometimes, when he was eating breakfast, he felt like dreaming. He kept asking himself if this was a dream. But it wasn’t. And sometimes, he was going to school like a normal teenager, then he suddenly woke up from a dream, sweating. He was confused. Everything he did confused him, everything he saw felt like an illusion to him. Unreal. He was asking himself if the footsteps he was hearing every single day were his imagination. And what about the subtle breathing noise he was hearing while he was hiding in that familiar alleyway where he lit his first ever cigarette just a few days ago? Was it his own breath? It couldn’t have been. His breath was uneven, he was trembling. While what he was hearing sounded so calm, almost soothing. Was it in is head? Ah, he wasn’t sure. And he didn’t like the cigarette. He threw it to the ground after two puffs, hating the flavor. He tossed the whole pack into the garbage. He was hoping for it to taste better, relieving, but it didn’t. It didn’t do it’s magic. In the end, his drug, the attention he was so obsessed with, had driven him into his ruins. All drugs had consequences, he figured. In whatever form they might appear. 

The people that he once called friends (note that at this point he had already given up on the term ‘friend’) had turned their backs on him. They badmouthed him, called him names and accused him of lying.  _ Attention seeking bastard _ , they had called him.  _ Sick _ , they had called him. He knew for himself that he was a liar, a mere storyteller. Apparently really bad one on top of that. But when all there was left was emptiness, this void in which he was drifting, it sure to him felt as though he was dying. He was sure that that must’ve been what dying felt like. And it was horrible. Nobody was left. Nobody was looking at him, nobody was talking to him nor touching him. He felt the urge to chat with other people, not even about himself but he would’ve loved to listen to their boring stories. He would’ve laughed. He would’ve listened. Sincerely. But he couldn’t hear a single voice, no. Only dull conversations in his head, telling him that he couldn’t do this anymore, that it was his fault and his alone. Was that remorse? Yes, yes he admitted that he had sinned. 

School had become hell. He would lie about feeling unwell and skip class, eventually he would just stay at home the whole day. It wasn’t because he was afraid of eating lunch by himself, he had actually kind of gotten used to hit, no, he was afraid of hearing these footsteps again. To feel a stranger’s eyes rest on his back. It didn’t matter if this feeling was real or in his head. He was afraid of the paranoia, the possibility of a monster waiting for him outside his house, spying on him, watching him getting undressed. He really tried to believe that all that was only in his head, he even tried that after receiving other notes. One time, he tried to convince himself that he was actually the one who’d written all the notes, simply to justify what was happening. But he wasn’t the one. And then he started missing out on school for days and then for weeks. He kept his blinds shut, no light got into his room and he didn’t even bother the fact that no one was checking up on him. Hearing the door bell freaked him out anyway. 

But the day he told his parents about how he felt, oh, he circled it in red in his calendar. He wanted to remember it forever, it truly was precious to him. It was the day on which his parents for once didn’t disappoint him. He would celebrate it every year, he swore to himself, with a huge bottle of champagne. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
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> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	4. A new home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ?? I wrote this chapter in one go and like ?? What even is life
> 
> I hope u guys enjoy it
> 
> No disclaimers for this chapter whoopwhoop
> 
> Ahhh  
BTW  
All the photos I include from like scenery and stuff are all found on the internet and credits go to the owners!!

**THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS**

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

**Chapter 3, A new home**

**제 3 장, 새 집**

It happened on a Monday. Wooyoung had successfully managed to spend the weekend inside his cell, aka his room, and his plan was to stay another week at home from school. It was a rare morning scenario for him as he was having breakfast _together_ with his parents. At the same time. Crazy, right? He‘d almost forgotten what it felt like. But when his parents asked him if he was going to go to school that morning, he switched on his acting skills and shook his head. He complained about feeling unwell, that he hadn’t been able to eat one single bite on Sunday (though he‘d really enjoyed the muffin he found, he‘d devoured it without chewing  _ once _ ) and he feared he would get really sick if he didn’t rest. He was only eating breakfast now so as not to die, to gain energy, but actually he had no appetite and every bite he took made him feel even sicker. This concludes as to why the boy sitting next to his father and across from his mother, the boy called Wooyoung, plead to stay home today as well. But his parents were far from stupid. Obviously, Wooyoung had to have his brilliancy from someone. Even though his parents were home only approximately 4.89 percent of his lifetime, they knew their son. At least partially. So they told him that if he really felt that bad, he should finally go and see a doctor since this had been going on for a while now and they were, now listen closely, everyone, ‘worried about him’. He choked on his soup. Should he laugh now? Where was the hidden camera? But they kept arguing that the school needed a sick note, and blah, blah, blah. He didn’t care. As soon as he heard the words ‘_doctor_’ and ‘_go see_’, his brain had shut down. At first you would think that seeing the doctor was still a better solution than going to school, right? Sure, sure, it was. But you seem to forget one aspect, dear reader. If he wanted to see the doctor, he’d have to leave his fortress. And sadly, to his disadvantage, the doctor wasn’t far enough away from home for someone having to take him there by car—but he was still far enough from home for him to get kidnapped. No, the doctor was no option for him. 

‘I won’t go see the doctor. You could just simply call the school and tell them I wasn’t feeling well,’ he said. 

‘Son, if you won’t go see a doctor, you have no choice but go to school’, his father then replied. 

Mh, no. He would do neither of the proposed suggestions. But keeping up the  _I’m so sick_ scheme wasn’t going to work anymore, he knew that himself. So he decided to open up to his parents. He decided to finally tell them what was going on. He told them about the stalker, about the notes, his fear of leaving the house because he was scared he’d get abducted, raped or well, you know, murdered. And he was sincere. He was speaking so truthfully, not one lie had crossed his lips. But now the part came where his parents didn’t disappoint him. One had to keep in mind that Wooyoung had gotten used to being disappointed by both of his parents and this throughout his whole life. He was used to empty promises like ‘we’ll have dinner together tonight’ or ‘we’ll finish work earlier today and will sing you a lullaby’. In the end, it was the babysitter who _attempted_ to sing him to sleep but her terrible voice only resulted in Wooyoung not being able to close one single fucking eye. His parents had never been there for him. He could grow weed in his room and his parents wouldn’t notice. He could get himself breasts tattooed across his forehead and his parents, _again_, wouldn’t notice. So on that day, Wooyoung knew that his parents wouldn’t believe him. He knew that no matter what he told them, they just wouldn’t care. He technically knew the outcome of telling them about his ‘secret’ and was able to predict what they would say. They wouldn’t believe him. That was just how they were. They would do the exact opposite of what Wooyoung would think, of what they would promise to him. 

So when they turned to him and told him that those were mere excuses and lies, simply because he didn’t want to be a son that could bear the responsibility of going to school like every other kid, he got to hear _exactly_ what he had predicted. He got to hear what he had thought they would tell him. So for once he was right. And for once he wished he wasn’t. For once, he wished his parents would disappoint him again and do the exact opposite of what he was thinking. He was hoping for them to break out in tears, to call police, to hug and kiss him. But they did just as he had thought. They _technically_ hadn’t disappointed him. He smiled. They had not disappointed him. 

But he couldn’t help but feel fear crawling up his throat, making it hard for him to breathe. He suddenly felt lost. He felt like the last piece of rock he was holding onto just broke away, making him fall into the dark and empty abyss full of nothing but his own sorrow. His last hope, the last people who could’ve helped him out of this slump had abandoned him. They vanished so quickly as if they’d never been there in the first place. He felt like he couldn’t find the end of the blanket and suffocated. He’d frozen to death in the ice cold water. Yes, he felt as though he was dead. No one was left, everyone had let him down. What now? What would he do now? Show his parents the photos and notes he had received? No, no. It was too late. He’d only make it worse. Could it get worse? He didn’t know. But he was too scared to find out.

His parents kept talking to him, telling him how disappointed they were, how his behavior was affecting their reputation, how he would end up being poor and homeless if he didn’t get an education just because he was too lazy to study. But Wooyoung didn’t hear much of it. He felt like he had entered a void, everything turned dark, his parents’ voices became dull and incomprehensible. Was he passing out? Ah, he didn’t know. But then a loud voice started talking to him. He didn’t know if it was his own voice, if it was the stalker communicating with him, if it was God. But he heard the voice anyway. 

‘_Why give up now?_’ It said. ‘_Why not show them? You’ve got nothing to lose now. You could turn the tables and let all of them regret how they treated you.’_

And then it clicked. As if a record player had stopped playing, his thoughts stopped with it. His vision was as clear as ever, he felt like for the first time in weeks he knew for sure that he wasn’t living in an endless dream, or nightmare he should say, but that it was the purest form of reality he was living in. And he said  _ yes, you’re right _ to his parents. And then he stood up from his chair, got into his room and changed into his uniform and then, passing by his parents’ confused looks, he left the house. They didn’t try to stop him, obviously. I mean, why? To them, it just looked like he obeyed his parents’ orders. So why stop him? Wooyoung felt so much but also so little during this short period of time when he left his house and began walking down the street. His head was loud, screaming different things at him, but then it got quiet. So, so quiet. He’d sworn revenge. He swore he would avenge himself. He’d show everyone. The people at school, Mingi, Yeosang, his parents. And he’d show himself. He’d show himself that he was no liar. The only one he needed to accomplish this was the person he feared most. The person he’d been trying to avoid at all costs the past few weeks, the person who had given him several panic attacks, the person who had sent him pictures and notes. He needed the person who had been following him. 

Even though his heart was pounding audibly in his chest, he couldn’t stop walking. In fact, he even began to walk faster. It wasn’t fear that he felt, it was anger. Anger toward everyone he’d believed to have known. And now, the last person that could bail him out of this slump was his stalker. And he prayed, he prayed to God that he existed. That he was there, somewhere, following Wooyoung’s very steps at that moment. Then, when he got far enough away from home, he slowed down. School was coming closer, his chances were getting smaller and smaller with every step, but then there it was. The subtle sensation of feeling watched by someone, the slightly slower paced footsteps that tried to synchronize with his. You know that too, reader, that when you spent enough time with a person, you’d be able to recognize them by only hearing their footsteps. Think about it. And Wooyoung felt the same. They were the same footsteps he would fear everyday. So when he was sure that he was in an area where everyone else was out of sight, he stopped walking. The other footsteps stopped. He let his backpack sink to the ground and then he stepped away from it.

He slowly turned around, but he couldn’t see anyone. He drew in a long, deep breath and when he exhaled he noticed that he was trembling. He bit his lips. A nod.

‘Hello?’

_Come on, Wooyoung, he won’t hear you when you whisper._ _Just get straight to the point, no one has time for rambling, you don’t need to introduce yourself either, he already knows who you are_. _Maybe he even knew you better than you knew yourself._ Again, he nodded. Probably to ensure himself that he could do it, that he was strong enough. 

‘Take me,’ Wooyoung still whispered. ‘I want you to take me with you.’

His begging was barely audible. Probably too quiet for his target person to hear, so he wasn’t sure whether he should repeat himself. His eyes wandered around the area, but he couldn’t see anyone. Not a cat, not a bug. There were no steps, no breathing. No answer. Nothing. Nothing but his mere presence, his aura that Wooyoung could feel so vividly, if he closed his eyes he was sure he’d be able to feel it touch him. Wooyoung couldn’t help to feel dirty for wanting his stalker to take him away. He was doing the exact opposite of what he was supposed to do, you know. He felt dirty for wanting to be acknowledged by a person whose face he’d never seen, he hated how that person was his last resort. He’d reached a point where he longed for any affection he could possible get, any attention, no matter whom it came from. And now it looked like this last hope, really, the last person that was left was abandoning him, too. He was afraid that he really did lie. That he’d been a mere liar all along and that everyone was right. He got angry. So angry, his eyes suddenly were flooded with water. 

‘Fuck, please. I’m all alone, I don’t care anymore. This is your chance, take me, please. Do whatever you want, please.’

There was an audible raise in his voice, but it couldn’t overshadow his despair. In contrary, it only emphasized it. But he didn’t care anymore. What bothered him was the fact that even his own stalker, his predator, the person who was allegedly so obsessed and crazy with him seemed to have let him down just like everyone else. All he could do now was laugh. He laughed so loudly, he laugh-drowned these taunting voices inside his head. No, his stalker wasn’t the crazy one. It was _him_, he was losing his mind. He was going insane. He couldn’t do it anymore. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know whether he should be happy that no stalker was in sight or whether he should scream. Scream his heart and soul out because life was so _fucking_ unfair. Because he didn’t seem to be able to find a way out. Because he—

‘Why?’

He lapsed into silence. Everything fell silent. All the blame, the voices. The word liar suddenly couldn’t be found in his vocabulary. When he imagined meeting his stalker he had always thought of a menacing voice, the voice of an old man. But this voice seemed young and calm. It almost sounded empty or, well, shy? He had turned around. Left, right. Nothing. No one to be seen. Had he imagined his voice, too? Please, let this be real. And then he saw a rather slim guy around his height emerge from behind a corner. His cap was pulled down, almost making it impossible to see any of his facial features. He was wearing a rather thin jacket (was he not cold?) and a little bag around his shoulder. But he seemed... normal, almost. _Almost_. Because Wooyoung could feel this aura around him, an aura Wooyoung had somewhat longed for. 

And then he realized it. 

He didn’t lie. All this time, he’d been no liar. He’d been the victim. He _was_ the victim. Everyone else was wrong. He was right. The stalker was real. He was standing right in front of him! Well, a couple of meters away, but still. He was there. He was real! He was real!

Wooyoung didn’t know how to feel at first. Should he laugh? Cry? Aw, don’t think by crying I meant crying out of sadness, no, crying because he was happy. He was so happy! Oh, wow, this was overwhelming. He immediately wanted to grab this man’s hand, and- wait! Where would he go first? Home? Or school? Ah, school, probably. He needed to show Yeosang first. And Mingi. And everyone else. Fuck his parents. They probably wouldn’t believe him even if he turned up WITH his stalker. So yes, school. But no. No, no. That would be dumb. First of all, his stalker would probably not agree to come with him, and second of all, it wouldn’t be enough for Wooyoung. This was his chance. His ultimate and last chance. And he sure as hell would take it. And this time he’d do it right.

‘Take me with you. I don’t care anymore. I’ll follow you. Just say it.’

The man was looking at Wooyoung, he knew that, even though he couldn’t see his eyes. Was Wooyoung not... persuasive enough? He tried to stay calm. He didn’t know that man’s intentions at last. 

‘I think you’re the only one who understands me. Don’t you want to have me? All for yourself?’

Silence. Staring. Wooyoung was thinking about what to say next, was thinking about how to persuade him.

Then his stalker stepped back a little. He turned around and started walking. Wooyoung was confused. But then the man looked over his shoulder, Wooyoung saw his nose, his lips. He saw his lips moving:

‘Come.’

And Wooyoung followed, leaving his backpack behind, and kept walking right behind that man. As if he was hypnotized by him, as if he was under a spell. 

His lips were burning, trying to force him to speak, to ask all the questions Wooyoung was holding back. But he bit his lips tightly to make it easier for him to keep quiet. He wanted to ask, he had so many questions. Who exactly he was, if they had ever met before, why he was stalking him. What he liked about him. But he was unable to speak, stunned almost. Maybe it was because he was a bit scared. He was, he admitted to that. But that didn’t stop him from following him. If he wanted to turn back, he still could. But he refused. Not because the man would probably grab him but because he didn’t want to. He knew he was dumb for doing this. He knew the man could turn around every second and pierce a knife through Wooyoung’s little heart. But somehow Wooyoung knew the man wouldn’t to that. But yes, he was stupid. And he knew that, yet he couldn’t fathom it. Maybe it would hit him later and then it would be too late. Why did he do it? Why would someone voluntarily get kidnapped by their stalker? Ah, yes, Wooyoung was sick. Sick in the head. This man could hurt him, touch him in inappropriate places or even, I’ll say it again, murder him. But nothing. As if he was a child, all he could feel was excitement as if he was numb to the consequences he would cause with his stupid actions. But all he could think of was this man. What he knew about Wooyoung, how much he knew. He certainly knew where he lived, where he went to school and probably the fact that he had lied about a stalker at first. Which, in the end, I would like to point it out once again for the people that still didn’t get it, turned out to be the truth. He was curious about whether he’d ever seen him naked. If he’d taken photographs of him changing. What he did with the photos. He thought about all kinds of things but no word left his lips. And his stalker kept quiet, too.

Wooyoung didn’t know where they were going, he didn’t even know for how long they were walking. It couldn’t have been too long, but for him it sure felt like an eternity. He didn’t bother looking at the street signs, he did that on purpose. He just kept staring at the man in front of him who had not once turned around to check if Wooyoung was still there, right behind him. The silence bugged Wooyoung, he wasn’t used to silence. A few times he’d wished for the stalker to ‘break the ice’ by asking him some questions. Because Wooyoung knew that the man walking in front of him must’ve had some questions himself. He imagined what he could’ve been thinking that moment. Maybe, _why would you ask me to take me with you?_ If he was the stalker, that was what _he_ would ask first. And Wooyoung imagined himself answering that question. What would he say?

Yes, it was dumb of me. But I don’t care, this isn’t about safety anymore. It’s about revenge. 

Would he say that? He didn’t know, maybe he would say something completely different, maybe he would say nothing. Because he didn’t know the answer either. But he wasn’t asked. No one was talking. It was quiet. 

After having walked for quite a while, Wooyoung noticed that they have left the rich parts of the town. He, in fact, didn’t even believe that they were still in his home town. There still were a lot of buildings, it was really packed, no free space. But poor. And then they reached a medium size apartment block which seemed rather old, shabby. Wooyoung didn’t know this place, he’d never been there before. Still, it looked completely normal. Maybe he’d expected something like an old warehouse, but well, there he was, walking up the stairs to get to the third floor. Apartment 303. He couldn’t see what code the man typed in to open the door, but then they stepped inside and Wooyoung could take a look at his new home. 

The apartment wasn’t that bad. Yes, it was rather small, not even as big as his bedroom alone but Wooyoung didn’t feel the urge to complain. It was better than what he had anticipated. He wanted this, so he shouldn’t complain. And it’s not like he needed a big ass bedroom stuffed with basically no important things. 

The other man shoved off his jacket and put it aside, still not saying a word. Wooyoung did the same, he took off his shoes and his jacket but he held his jacket in both of his arms, pressed against his chest. He saw the other One making his way through a tight hallway that lead to the kitchen he believed, while Wooyoung stood in front of the entrance door. He was facing the living/bedroom. There were two other doors when he looked back. One of it probably being the bathroom and maybe, well, a storage room? He didn’t know. What he could say though was that there were books everywhere. There were two medium sized bookshelves that were filled with books and no space left. The rest of the books occupied half of the floor. Most of them were stacked up into piles and some of them seemed so unstable that Wooyoung feared his breath would cause them to collapse. There was no television but a small coffee table shoved into one corner of the room. When Wooyoung went inside, he noticed another small dresser which he believed contained clothes and probably cushions and blankets for the night. Ah, yes. This was his home now. 

While the other man was out of sight, probably somewhere in the kitchen, Wooyoung crouched in front of one book, putting aside his jacket. It looked like the pages had been soaked with water and then dried again. He flipped the book to look at the cover just to realize that it was Pinocchio. Why would a grown up read Pinocchio?

A few moments later, his stalker had appeared in front of him again, kneeling down. He’d brought him a brimming glass of water and when he put it down on the wooden floor, he spilled half of it, soaking the tips of Wooyoung’s socks as well as the backside of the book in water again. Wooyoung hated the feeling of wet socks but he couldn’t help but feel bad for the book, it didn’t deserve that. On the other hand, he didn’t know what to do next. Drink something? He was thirsty, but what if it was poisoned? He kept staring at the glass until the man in front of him pushed it closer to Wooyoung without lifting it from the ground, leaving a wet trace across the floor. If he wanted to kill Wooyoung, he would do so sooner or later. So whatever. Wooyoung carefully lifted the glass and looked at it for a solid minute until he downed it. Every single drop of it. He didn’t notice how his stalker had come closer to him with every sip he took until they almost touched and wetting the stalker’s jeans on his knee area.

Wooyoung put down the glass and then looked at him. He wanted to see his face. With shaking hands, Wooyoung dared getting rid of the man’s cap which allowed the white hair to fall into the stalker’s eyes, covering them almost completely. They almost had the same hair color. Wooyoung parted the man’s hair to get a look at his eyes. He didn’t know what to think. The man in front of him wasn’t old (despite having white-ish hair, but it was dyed), no, he was young. Maybe only a couple years older than Wooyoung, but not many. He had sharp features, he was thin, and his eyes reminded Wooyoung of those of a fox. Sly and observing. His haircut was completely messy. It looked like a mullet to Wooyoung, but a really bad one. He probably cut his hair himself. But all in all, the man looked normal. But he was not normal. He was a stalker. He was sick. Maybe just as sick as Wooyoung himself. He potentially was a very dangerous man. He could pull out a knife and stab Wooyoung to death. He could grab his throat and strangle him. Maybe he was just waiting for the drugs that he’d put in the water to kick in. But nothing. Wooyoung didn’t even want to run. He wasn’t saying that he wasn’t afraid of that man, or that he wasn’t disgusted, because he was. He really was. But he was his golden ticket. His last chance. He wasn’t sure what they would do next. How they would get on, but they would figure it out. Well, if he didn’t get killed beforehand. Wooyoung was too blind, too naive to believe that maybe this could lead to a better life. 

‘Can you say something?’

Nothing. The man kept staring at Wooyoung, he shuddered at that. His eyes pierced through Wooyoung’s soul, it was eerie. 

‘Anything.’

It took a while until his stalker opened his mouth and then finally for the first time after they’d met, he spoke.

‘I am scared this might be a dream.’

Wooyoung frowned. ‘Me, being here?’

The man nodded.

‘What if, when I touch you, you vanish?’

Wooyoung gulped. ‘I won’t.’

‘What if, when you pinch me, I wake up and you’re gone?’

Wooyoung shook his head. ‘I won’t be gone.’

His heart pounded like crazy. What was he thinking? What was happening? He bit his lips to gain control over his shaking, but he failed. He couldn’t read the man’s expression. He didn’t know whether he was happy, sad, angry, confused. Maybe everything? He just kept staring. And then he slowly lifted his hand and steered it towards Wooyoung. He held his breath. The man’s hand kept hovering in front of Wooyoung’s face for a while and then, then Wooyoung could feel his ice cold fingertips touch his neck, unsure and carefully. Wooyoung let out a sharp breath, goosebumps spread from where he was being touched across the rest of his body. Seeing how the stalker’s hand was shaking, Wooyoung just then realized how bad he was shaking. The man lowered his gaze, was that a smile?, and then he took away his hand, pressed it against his chest and covered it with the other hand as if he‘d just touched the most precious thing ever. 

And that was true. Wooyoung then realized that to this man, there was nothing more precious than Wooyoung. He was this man’s whole world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	5. Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone ><
> 
> I’m one week late, right? I’m very sorry. Something personal kept me from thinking straight and I wasn’t able to finish the next chapter, but now it’s done c: 
> 
> And I hope y’all like it ^^ No trigger warnings for this one~ 
> 
> Have fun!!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 4, Mountain**

**제 4 장 , 산**

His eyes popped open. What the  fuck had he done? His eyes wandered around the room to find a clock or at least something that would tell him what time it was. But nothing. He didn’t have his phone with him, it was still somewhere hidden between his books in the depths of his backpack that was either still chilling on the dirty ground of that random street or was stolen by someone as it was a pretty expensive backpack. Did he miss his phone? A little. Did he miss his backpack? Not a single bit. Did he realize how much of a stupid person he was for asking,  _ no _ , begging his stalker to take him somewhere he didn’t know? Kind of. In fact, he was shaking. He‘d been shaking the whole freaking night. It wasn‘t cold (though it could’ve been a bit warmer) but he was so scared that this weird man would come up to him and start touching him. I mean, he was happy that his stalker gave him the bedding and an extra blanket whereas he was lying on the floor as far away from him as one could get inside that little room (and without knocking over one of his book towers), but it could’ve taken him not five seconds to roll over and shove his dirty hands down places Wooyoung rather kept for himself to touch. But fair enough, the stalker didn’t move an inch. In fact, he was facing the wall and not Wooyoung. At some point during the night, Wooyoung even thought that the man had died as he couldn’t hear him breathe either. But he wasn’t dead. At least Wooyoung wanted to believe so, he couldn’t deal with a dead body now.

It’s not like he didn’t sleep at all the whole night. He did, a little bit, yes, but not much. He would fall asleep, have a weird dream in which weird things happened between him and the seemingly dead man on the other side of the room, and then he would start up from his sleep, make sure it was just a nightmare, and then, after some time, he would fall asleep again and everything would repeat itself. In conclusion, it had been a very exhausting night for him. But, even though his stalker had drawn the curtains before they went to sleep, a tiny beam of sunshine found it’s way through a little gap. It seemed to be morning. Wooyoung brushed the blankets off of his body and stood up to walk up to the window, with one hand pushing the curtain aside to look outside. He must say he‘d seen views that were way more impressive than the one in front of his eyes right now. All he could see was buildings that didn’t look any better than the one they were currently in, dirty roads with stray cats fighting about leftovers that they probably stole from one of the trash bags and then a woman with her little boy who just came into the picture, Wooyoung assumed she was accompanying him to the bus station. So it must’ve been somewhat around 8 o’clock. When the boy turned his head to look up, staring straight at Wooyoung, he moved away from the window, letting the room plunge into darkness again.

He heard someone inhale deeply. His head turned to his stalker who had probably just risen from death. Wooyoung returned to his blanket to sit down again, his eyes piercing through the other man‘s back. After a while, the man rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling for around five minutes. Then his head turned to Wooyoung, his eyes sparkled and then Wooyoung swore he could see a smile on his face. Wooyoung thought about yesterday. It hadn’t been too late when they got here yesterday, but they didn’t do much. His stalker, who‘s name he still didn’t know because this man was so short on words, had shown him most of the apartment. The little kitchen, the bathroom (which was so small they almost couldn’t fit in there together), and well, he already knew the living room. Wooyoung had noticed that there was another door, right next to the bathroom, but his stalker didn’t even offer him to look at what’s behind there. And Wooyoung didn’t ask. Maybe that’s where the man hid the bodies of his previous victims and if that was the case, Wooyoung would get to see what’s in there sooner or later anyways. So no rush. But then they sat down in the living room again, staring at each other for seemingly an eternity, still without a word. After a while his stalker stood up to cook something to eat, Wooyoung didn’t do anything but think about what had happened. He was thinking about whether someone had noticed that he was gone. He didn’t think so, but he hoped so. It seemed to him like a dream, he still couldn’t realize what he had actually done. And then, when the stalker came back-

Wooyoung‘s thoughts fell silent for a minute when he noticed that the man in front of him had stood up and walked out of the room. Wooyoung thought about continuing to recap about what had happened yesterday, but he didn’t want to, there was no use. Nothing special had happened anyway. So he decided to get up and open up the curtains, letting the room look friendly again. He folded the blankets and put them back to where he got them from. And then he noticed that he smelled (it probably came from sweating so much, out of fear, obviously, not from the heat). And there was nothing more uncomfortable for him than smelling. He walked into the kitchen, catching his stalker prepare breakfast.

‘Can I wash up?’ Wooyoung asked. 

The man looked up, turned his head to Wooyoung and then nodded.

‘I don’t have any other clothes.’

The man looked away again, he seemed to be thinking, and then he left the kitchen. Wooyoung noticed that he put lots of effort in trying not to touch him in any way, and he found that to be weird. Yesterday he had touched him, once, but since then never again. Ah, don’t misunderstand this, Wooyoung was quite happy about this, but he still found it weird. Wooyoung followed him again into the living room, almost bumping into him, but the stalker had backed up quickly enough. He held up a pair of underwear, a hoody and pants and waited for Wooyoung to take them.  _ Thanks _ , Wooyoung said.  _ Then I’ll wash up very quickly _ _._ And Wooyoung disappeared behind the bathroom door. There was no shower or something, just a shower head, a toilet and a sink. Wooyoung examined the door for a key or just something to lock it with, but he couldn’t find anything. He sighed,  _damn it_. _Let’s just do it quickly_ _._ He took off his clothes, quickly turned on the shower and even though he‘d normally spend 30 to 45 minutes with just letting the water rattle down on his skin (shampooing excluded!), this time he only needed approximately five minutes. His gaze didn’t leave the door once, he was wary and his breath was quiet and flat.

To his surprise the water was quite warm. Again, not as hot as he’d hoped it would be, but he could live with it. At least it wasn’t cold. When he was finished, he put on the clothes he got earlier as quickly as he could and they actually fit him really well. It was no surprise, they were almost the same height and their body type seemed similar, too. And immediately he felt better. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he felt great, but he didn’t feel miserable anymore. At least he didn’t smell, you know? He grabbed a fresh towel to dry his hair as best as he could and then he went back into the kitchen. The little table was fully covered with food, it was even more than what Wooyoung would normally eat at home. There were eggs, rice, a thousand side dishes, toast, and lots more. Wooyoung was surprised the man even had that much food at home. He sat down, the other man did the same. And then both startet eating, quietly. And Wooyoung liked the food. It was genuinely good and for a change it wasn’t the food that the housekeeper would cooked. Oh, the housekeeper?

The little spark of guilt Wooyoung had felt this morning was washed away, he noticed. This fear was still present the whole time, somewhere inside of him. But he could bear it. He didn’t quite know what he should think of this man sitting in front of him. Honestly, he didn’t even seem much like a stalker. He was genuinely just weird, very weird he should say, but if Wooyoung had met him on another occasion, he wouldn’t have thought that this man would be capable of following people around and taking pictures of them. Maybe, though, this was exactly why he was a stalker. I mean, look at Ted Bundy. People went crazy for him, yet he murdered several women and nobody would’ve thought. Because he looked nice, because he was charming, because he just seemed like a normal person. Wooyoung’s eyes wandered up to his stalker.  _ He was no Ted Bundy, was he? _

  
The man stood up. Wooyoung noticed he’d finished eating but it seemed like he’d left 95 % of the food to Wooyoung.

‘I’m sorry I’m not waiting for you to finish up. I’ll get you clothes. And I need to buy food.’

Wooyoung looked up, shaking his head. He literally had no problem with that. And to be fair, he actually found it nice that he wanted to get new clothes for Wooyoung. He knew they wouldn’t be top quality products, but at least no one else had worn them before him. And underwear, _God_, please let him get some underwear. The other man looked at him, noticeably wanting to say something, but he seemed to have trouble saying it out loud. 

‘Will you... Are you going to—‘

‘Stay here?’ Wooyoung interrupted him, then he nodded. ‘I have nowhere to go.’

The other man just nodded and again he noticed a slight smile that disappeared just as quickly as it had come. Then he wanted to walk out of the kitchen, but Wooyoung stopped him.

‘Wait. You don’t know what size clothes I wear.’

The man turned to him and stared at him blankly. 

Wooyoung stared back. Then he understood.

‘Oh, _wow_. Sure. Of course, you know. Alright. See you.’ He looked away and continued eating. 

All he heard was the front door opening and shutting again, and for the first time Wooyoung felt like he could breathe again, he felt as if someone lifted a big, heavy rock from his shoulders. This boiling fear inside of him cooled down for a bit and thoughts flooded his mind immediately, he found himself thinking straight again. At least for a second. 

Should he go back? Should he leave? Why shouldn’t he leave? Why the hell would he stay? This was his chance. He could go now. He could literally walk out the door and no one would notice. 

But he stayed. And he didn’t know why. 

He knew that he was dumb, he knew that his idea was probably one of the dumbest ideas in the history of mankind, but he still didn’t want to do anything about it. His desire to get revenge was more intense than any other feeling he’d felt since he came here. He knew that this man could do whatever he wanted to Wooyoung and literally no one would know. At this point in time, no one was probably missing Wooyoung anyways. Not his family, not his friends. Ah, shit, we decided on not saying this word again, right? Okay, one more time: Not his family, not the strangers he’d see every day in school had probably noticed that he’d gone missing. And honestly, something about it also relaxed Wooyoung. Besides potentially getting murdered, Wooyoung didn’t have to worry about anything. No school (ok, he’d never actually worried about school, but still), he was given food and clothes, he could sleep as long as he wanted, he could relax the whole day, no annoying parents, it was fine. It was nice, Wooyoung liked it. And yet he wasn’t alone because someone on this planet actually wanted Wooyoung to be with him. Even if that someone was a creepy stalker. You can’t have everything, you know? No, it was fine. It will be fine, Wooyoung will be fine. And his thoughts became foggy again.

When he finished eating (and he had literally eaten up every single grain), he put the dishes aside, he wasn’t sure whether he should clean them or not, but before that he thought he’d go and explore a bit. If he wasn’t going to leave, he’d at least want to know his new home a bit better. And he knew exactly where to start.

He walked up to the last door behind which he hadn’t got to look yet. The room with the dead bodies, supposedly. Maybe it was nothing, sure. But maybe it was also  something . He tried opening it and to his surprise it wasn’t even locked. If it wasn’t locked, there probably weren’t going to be dead bodies in it, right? Oh, wait, what if it’s his torture room? Wooyoung stopped for a second. Should he really go inside? Yes, yes. Let’s go. If it isn’t locked it means that his stalker surely didn’t mind if Wooyoung took a look, right? So eventually he opened it up and what he saw in front of him was some kind of, well, working space? At least it looked like that. There were more bookshelves, a messy desk, documents, papers, letters, notebooks and more. No bodies, no torture instruments, nothing like that. Still it was really messy. Wooyoung didn’t like it, but he went inside anyways. 

But even though it was no slaughter room, there still was something unsettling about it, maybe that’s why his stalker didn’t want to show it to him. After Wooyoung closed the door behind him, he noticed what probably was so eerie about it.

He felt under his feet that he’d stepped on something. And this something was nothing else than a picture of him. He crouched down and stared at it for a while. In it you could see him eat food he’d bought somewhere, it was getting a bit darker, but Wooyoung couldn’t remember from where it was or what he’d been doing that day. He didn’t know. His glance wandered around the floor and then he spotted another photograph. He let the former one slide through his fingers to take the other photo, again, looking at it. And then he saw another one, and another one. And he noticed the whole floor was covered in pictures of him.

What he felt during that moment? He wasn’t sure. At first he wanted to vomit. Then he somewhat felt proud. Then he complimented his stalker’s photography skills because the pictures let Wooyoung look like a photo model, then he wanted to vomit again. He swallowed. This was sick. Not even Wooyoung himself owned that many pictures of him and he was obsessed with taking selfies (I mean, who wouldn’t be, right?). He sat down in the midst of all the photographs and just kept looking through them, one after the other. Almost every one of them had a date and a short description written down on them.

_15 October 2019, dyed his hair grey. Beautiful. 12 June 2019, almost two hours late for school. 7 December 2018— _

Wooyoung gulped. This man had been around for almost a year? Maybe even more than that? And Wooyoung had only started noticing it a couple of weeks ago? This was insane. He shook his head and quickly put away the photograph without reading what his stalker had written underneath it. He rather searched for pictures that had older dates on them. December 2018, August, September, again August, April— ah, shit, April? This got worse and worse. For how long had this weirdo been stalking him now? Goosebumps crawled over Wooyoung’s back. Another picture caught his eyes, in it he could see himself and, well, Yeosang. Both were laughing, it was from a couple of months ago and the caption said ‘with a friend’. He got angry. Friend? _Bullshit_. He stood up because if he kept looking at these pictures he sure as hell would vomit. He rather sat down on the chair to observe the messy desk literally no one could ever work on. There was no free space, Wooyoung couldn’t even see the surface of the desk, he couldn’t tell what material it was made of, honestly. It was hard to find anything interesting at first but then he noticed a bunch of notebooks that looked fairly similar to each other, so he took one from the middle and opened it on a random page. 

And it seemed like Wooyoung had found his stalker’s diaries. At least it looked like that. The writing looked similar, judging from the notes he’d received and as far as Wooyoung could remember his writing. There was something written on every single page, on some more than on others. Some only even contained one single word. And some had pictures. On some pictures one could see Wooyoung, in others he seemed to have taken pictures from random things like buildings, trees, cats and so on. On every page there also was a date, this notebook he finished in the midst of 2018. Some entries made Wooyoung wonder what kind of person his stalker was and well, what kind of problems he had. On one page it said: _I forgot his name. I usually remember names. But he was a nice man. I don’t want to see him again, there should be no reason for us meeting again. But he was a nice man._

Did that make sense to any of you? Yes, neither did it to me. On a few pages after that, it said: _Affection???? _

And then, on the backside, there was a photo of Wooyoung and above it his stalker wrote: _Affection! (Or is it?????)_

Shivering.

The last page Wooyoung looked at was the one that sticked the most to him, though. 

_ 10 July 2018 _

_ Mum, I am not sure whether I like the present you gave me 19 years ago. _

_ I constantly have to look after it, make sure it doesn’t die. _

_ It is exhausting. I think I’m failing at it. _

_ Let’s meet again, soon, Mum. _

Wooyoung felt weird. What present was he talking about? Was it a pet? And if so, where was it? Did it die? What kind of pet did he keep for almost two decades? And, uhm, how old was he?? Wooyoung didn’t feel good reading this entry, even though he was probably just talking about a pet. Or a plant, maybe. But Wooyoung then decided to put the diary away. And then he noticed something else. It was a letter that was put on the wall but it didn’t seem to have been written by his stalker. But it also only was the very end of the paper, his stalker must’ve ripped it apart. Wooyoung read it anyway.

_ ... very sorry. You shouldn’t be sorry for me. It is much better here, anyway. Mama is happy! _

_ I love you, San, Mum loves you so much. _

San? Wooyoung read the last part again. San? Was that his name? Was his stalker’s name San? 

He leaned back on the chair. The letter must’ve been from his mom, obviously, and his name was San. But where was the beginning of the letter? And why did San put it on his wall? Well, if the letter was actually for him and his name really was San. 

Then he heard the door. Slow footsteps. Then faster and louder footsteps.

_Oh no_. What if he wasn’t supposed to be in there? No, wait. He really wasn’t supposed to be in there. Because if he was, his stalker, or _San_, would’ve shown him this room. But he hadn’t done that. Wooyoung jumped up from the chair and opened the door. First his head, no sight of him, then his whole body followed to come up from behind the door. He slowly and especially quietly closed it behind him, just to turn around and see San standing in the door frame all the way back in the kitchen. Wooyoung gulped. San stared. 

‘You were in there?’

Somehow San seemed upset. He came walking over to Wooyoung who backed off a few steps and when San saw this, he stopped a few meters away from Wooyoung. When Wooyoung wanted to say something, trying to make an excuse as to why he had been in there, San for the first time spoke first.

‘I didn’t think you’d stay.’ He said, his voice seemed to shake a little bit, but Wooyoung could see that he was trying to calm himself down. ‘I thought you’d be gone.’

Wooyoung slowly calmed himself down internally, it didn’t seem to bother San that he was snooping around the whole time. What made him so upset was the fact that he’d thought that Wooyoung was gone. And Wooyoung smiled. Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile at the fact that someone could get that upset about the mere thought of him not being present. That was what he wanted. This was all he ever asked for. San was no Ted Bundy, no killer. San was a tiny, helpless man that feared losing Wooyoung.

‘San?’ Wooyoung whispered. ‘Your name is San, right?’

*

His eyes hovered over the paper, then he looked back at the suspect. Then again, the paper. Then the suspect. He put down the paper and took a big sip from his coffee, black, no sugar. Why did  he have to do this? He turned the paper and pushed it closer to the man sitting in front of him, repeatedly pointing at the picture that was printed (in color!) on the paper.

‘Again , I’m sorry, but there’s no doubt that the man in the picture is, in fact, you.’ He said after he’d put down his cup.

‘And,  again , ‘tective. This completely _unknown_ man‘s wearing glasses.  I don’t wear glasses.’

He shoved his hair back, closing his eyes for a second to restrain himself from losing his temper.  _ Breathe, Seonghwa, breathe _ . This ‘interrogation’ had been going on for what, almost an hour? And besides bombshell evidence, this dumb fuck kept denying he was the one who stole the cigarettes. The CCTV footage was unequivocal, the man didn’t even wear a face mask or anything besides these stupid glasses to hide his face. And not to mention that he was wearing the exact same clothes as the apparently unknown guy from the video. He liked his job, he really did. But he also hated his job so much he didn’t know why he was doing it sometimes. And he also didn’t know how some people could be so dumb- no, how some people believed he actually was dumb enough to believe their stupid stories. Not even his grandma would believe that.

‘The knife you used to threaten the cashier was found in your backpack. Along with the stolen cigarette packs.’

‘Ahh, that’s ridiculous. See, I don’t even smoke, ay? Someone must be framing me! I’m the victim here!’

Seonghwa could feel the veins on his neck pulsing. Was he a joke to this idiot? He didn’t like it when people played dumb with him, especially not if the person was a teenager. A pretty stupid one on top of that. 

‘Alright, if you say so. Let’s take a break, I could need a smoke, be right back.’ He stood up. ‘Mind lending me a lighter?’

‘Sure, here ya go, ‘tective.’

Seonghwa stared at the man, the man stared back at him. Then his gaze fell down onto his yellow lighter that he proudly held up. Now both knew in what kind of a dumb situation they were in. Defeat was written across the suspect’s face, he started mumbling things.

‘Case closed. Don’t move, idiot. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Seonghwa stood up from his chair, he took the lighter out of the puzzled kid’s hands and then left him behind. It was a pretty obvious case, something Seonghwa didn’t want to be hindered by. That kid was a little punk, trying to be cool by smoking and well, stealing twenty packs of cigarettes by threatening the cashier with a kitchen knife. To his disadvantage, though, there was a pretty good CCTV and, again, to his bitter disadvantage, two police officers were nearby and he got caught fairly quickly. But it’s going to be pretty funny once his parents arrive at the station, they almost choked their son through the telephone when they contacted them, Seonghwa could feel it. Stupid cases, if one could call them that, kept Seonghwa from doing actually important work. And because it bothered him so much, Seonghwa actually _did_ want to go for a smoke, however he was stopped by one of his co-workers, he didn’t like him, he was always too freaking jolly about just everything, his smile triggered Seonghwa’s urge to gag. He swallowed. 

‘Morning Detective. May I introduce to you our fresh, new rookie, top of his class, best graduation we had in 4 years. His name is Jeong Yunho.’

Seonghwa looked at his co-worker for a second, urgh, then his eyes wandered off to this  _amazing_ rookie he’d just got introduced to. He was tall, even taller than Seonghwa himself, had a pretty face, was young, well built and yeah, Seonghwa already couldn’t stand him. Why? Because he had this sickening, fake grin printed onto his face as well. And why else did Seonghwa not like him? Because he had to take care of this  _ amazing _ rookie. He was given the wonderful chance to work with such an  _ amazing _ and  smart young man, the future of our police department, the future of our future generation, the future of our future. Awkward silence. This wonderful smile on the rookie’s face faded but was restored again when the man next to him started laughing, awkwardly, and then went on to introduce Seonghwa. 

‘This, Yunho, is the best detective from town, no, from South Korea.’

Yeah, let’s not go that far.

‘It’s our charismatic, energetic, easily annoyed Detective Park Seonghwa. Applause, everyone.’

Yes, he started clapping. Yes, he was the only one clapping. 

Yunho bowed, greeting him formally once again. 

‘Well, then I’ll let you two get to know each other a bit better. You’re partners now.’

And there he went, leaving the crap he’d brought with him behind. And then there were only the two of them left, staring at each other for a while, Seonghwa didn’t like this. Why him? Why did he always have to deal with that crap? He liked his current team, they were very few people. Sure, some of them were pretty annoying, but all in all they did their work and that was what counted. But Seonghwa didn’t like newbies. Not because they hurt him in any particular way, but they always had so many questions, they always made mistakes and all in all they just prevented them from doing their work. Of course, they had to learn their stuff somehow and Seonghwa fully understood and supported that, but not in his team. He didn’t want to be the Master of a young, inexperienced Padawan.

‘Is there a desk for me?’ The rookie asked him, snuffled, and looked around the room.

It’s fine, Seonghwa. It’s just a young man trying to change the world just as you once tried. Be nice, don’t be too scary.

‘Back there. Mine’s right next to it.’

Now, well done! That was pretty decently said!

Yunho nodded, thanked him, bowed and then got to his desk, putting all of his stuff down. Seriously, did this guy bring his whole interior furniture? Seonghwa kept staring at him until he finished  getting comfortable at his new desk, and then Yunho noticed him. He stood up.

‘So, what case are we on? Can I do anything?’

Seonghwa sighed. 

‘Not really, you could-‘ He stopped, eyes wandering across the room to the wannabe shoplifter who by the way still seemed to be in shock. ‘Actually, you know what? You can do something. This guy right there-‘

‘Detective Park?’

Seonghwa turned to the man who just walked in. 

‘I’m sorry to interrupt but... They said they needed you there.’

He frowned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	6. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys
> 
> You guys.  
You guys are so wonderful. At this point I just want to take some time to thank you for your nice comments!! People were telling me they really liked how I write the story and you should know that this means a LOT to me. I’m incredibly self-conscious about my writing skills and on top of that I’m not a native English speaker. So, thank you for bearing with me. You guys make my day every single time I upload. Thanks so much ♥ 
> 
> Again, no trigger warnings here, just enjoy the chapter~!
> 
> (Credits to the owner of the pic w/ the strawberry cake, it honestly looks delicious.)

**THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS**

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

**Chapter 5, Friday**

**제 5 장, 금요일**

Yunho sat down on the sofa next to Detective Park after observing the house for a bit. He didn’t know whether he’d feel happy here, the house was monstrous and it felt cold. His eyes wandered from Seonghwa to the two people sitting opposite to them. While the mother had taken over the speaking for most of the conversation, the father was busy with hurriedly tapping on his phone, trying to contact people who might’ve seen his son. At least Yunho hoped he was doing that because it strangely seemed like he was securing business deals. 

‘Look. We’re busy people with important jobs. It’s common for us to see our son only twice a week. You should understand that, you’re police. And by no means, Detective. He’s old enough to stay alone at home for some time. He’s used to that.’

‘Then why do you think he’s gone missing?’

By just observing Detective Park’s facial expressions and gestures, Yunho could tell that he didn’t like talking to these people. But then again, he was wondering if that was just his average looks because in fact, the Detective had the same expression printed on his face when they got introduced to each other just a few hours ago. But nonetheless, Yunho himself didn’t like talking to these people. They seemed so nonchalant about the fact that their son might’ve gone missing, he’d even go as far as to say that they seemed bothered by the fact that they had to call the police, sit here with the detectives and talk to them instead of doing their work and, well, making money. No wonder they didn’t notice that their son hadn’t come home. 

‘Our housekeeper came to us asking whether our son was on a field trip because she saw that no one ate the food she prepared, no dirty laundry and she herself hasn’t seen him in days. We didn’t know about a field trip either so we called the school but they told us there was none but that he also hadn’t shown up to school for days, not that that’s something new.’

‘Do you remember when you last saw him?’

The woman nodded, told them that it was on Monday but that he’d actually left for school that day, he was wearing his uniform. 

‘Noticed anything weird about your son?’

Nothing.

‘Did he mention something that could be relevant for this investigation?’

They wouldn’t know.

‘Did you fight?’

Both parents shook their heads. 

‘So you don’t think he ran away from home for a bit? Did you try contacting any of his friends? What about your relatives?’

‘We called all our relatives and his friend Yeosang, he’s the only friend we’re aware of, but he said he wasn’t with them. He wasn’t with any of our relatives either.’

Yunho saw Seonghwa nodding, then he stood up and Yunho quickly got up as well.

‘Thank you for your time. We make sure he’ll turn up again,’ Yunho said while the father put his phone to his ear, waiting for a call to get through.

‘And make it quick,’ he said, Yunho rolled his eyes internally.

‘This friend you mentioned, what was his name again?’

‘Don’t you think it’s weird that they reported this almost a week later? What kind of parents are they?’

Both got into the black vehicle, Yunho sat on the passenger seat. He couldn’t fathom how parents could act so unbothered about the fact that their son was lost, somewhere they didn’t know and probably somewhere he didn’t know either. He shook his head in disbelief. 

‘They’re freaking eerie. They look like robots, they show no emotions. Don’t you think so, Detective?’

Yunho looked over to his partner who was concentrating on what was going on in front of his eyes. He got no answer. Not that he’d expected one, but at least he tried, you know? Yunho didn’t really know how to behave around him, what he should say or if it was better to just shut up. But they were a team, weren’t they? Shouldn’t they share their opinions and theories and feelings? Apparently not. It was a new case for Detective Park as well and this was Yunho’s first real case, supposedly a missing person case on top of that. He was excited. He didn’t graduate top of the class to separate two drunkards fighting in a club. Unless it would end with someone getting murdered, of course. But to be honest, Yunho wasn’t too happy himself when he found out that his partner would be Detective Park. He hadn’t met him before, no, but he’d heard about him. A lot. Some excellent stuff, this man obviously wouldn’t be where he was if he wasn’t good at his job, but he overheard more negative stuff. Especially from people that had worked with him in the past. Detective Park was known for solving his cases, he sure was, but in his own ways. Which weren’t necessarily the most lawful ways. Yunho was not like that. He liked rules, control, and a clear strategy that he could follow, just like in school. He didn’t know whether this partnership of them would work out considering how different they were to each other.

‘I went to that high school, too,’ Yunho then chose to say. ‘I can’t really say that I liked it, but it did its purpose, you know? I wonder if-‘

‘We’re here.’

The car stopped next to another vehicle, probably a teacher’s car, and then Seonghwa stepped out. Yunho sighed, he didn’t like being cut off, but who was he to complain? He was the rookie after all, he had to obey his seniors. He snook out of the car and observed his old high school. He could tell Detective Park what had changed and what had remained the same and how nostalgic it felt to be here again, but this time he kept his mouth shut. But he could tell you, reader, if you didn’t mind. It hadn’t changed much on the outside, but the interior felt rather unfamiliar. New pictures and decorations were put up, new posters. It felt more modern. Suddenly he missed going to school, hanging out with his friends in the classrooms until it’d turn dark outside and then grabbing something to drink or an ice cream somewhere. He remembered how they’d tried their first cigarettes on the roof top, almost getting caught by the teachers. Did some of his teachers remember him? He was curious. He would love to show them how successful he was, graduating from Police School and now working with a somewhat famous or notorious (whatever you want) detective. 

They got told where to find this missing boy’s friend, apparently they were in class now. They knocked on one of the many classroom doors until Detective Park stepped in and asked for a boy named Kang Yeosang. A pretty boy came forward and followed them outside to talk. 

‘Is it about Wooyoung?’. Was the first question he had asked them, even before they could say a word. He probably knew that his parents were looking for him because they had called him earlier. ‘Did something happen to him?’

‘We don’t know yet, that’s why we’re here. But you’re his friend, right?’

A deep sigh. 

‘I wouldn’t even count him to my acquaintances anymore.’

Despite Yeosang putting up a ‘I don’t care about him’ act, Yunho could deduce from his body language that he felt uncomfortable, he still seemed curious and maybe a bit concerned about what they were going to tell him. He blinked rather often, his eyes dancing between those of Yunho and those of Seonghwa. _Wow_, Yunho thought, _he seemed more concerned than Wooyoung’s own parents. _

‘Apparently, Wooyoung has been missing for five days now. Do you know where he could be or did you speak to him in the past few days?’

Wooyoung frowned, turning around to look through the small glass windows that allowed one to glance inside the classroom. Yunho followed his glance, just to see an empty chair with an empty desk. 

‘I thought he was at home. No one noticed because he’d been ditching school for a while now and I thought it was just another week of him staying at home. I can’t even tell you when I saw him the last time.’

‘So he really wasn’t here on Monday?’

Yeosang seemed to think for a minute, then he shook his head. 

‘No. I’d have noticed.’

‘Do you know why he stopped coming to school? His parents told us you were his friend but it honestly doesn’t seem like that.’

‘You know, even though he was an attention seeking liar, I really liked him. He was fun being around with. I’ve known him for years and he might be odd but I thought that was what made him different from others. Almost special. But this time he went too far, even for me. He lied to the whole school about having a stalker, he even hurt himself to make everyone believe him, but you know what happens with lies. They are prone to come to light, doesn’t matter how small they might appear. And everything just for attention. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore after that. Neither wanted anyone else in school. Everyone started to avoid him, they would throw swear words at him. I guess he just couldn’t bear it anymore and started ditching school.’

Detective Park and Yunho exchanged glances for a second. This Wooyoung kid seemed rather mysterious. This was such a weird case.

‘Are you sure his stalker was a lie?’

Nodding. 

‘Did you talk to him again after this whole story came out?’

He shook his head. Then he seemed to think about it a bit harder and then he suddenly nodded. 

‘Wait, I actually did. Once. He was going off on one of my friends, Mingi, and accused him of sending him weird notes. Then he ran outside and rummaged the dumpsters to search for a note he’d thrown away. He seemed to have lost touch with reality, I think he genuinely believed his own lie. But I’ve never talked to him since and shortly after this incident he stopped coming to school.’

This seemed like a bad movie. 

‘Alright. Thank you Yeosang, that’s everything we need from you for now. If anything else comes to your mind, call us immediately or come to the station. Do you know of any other people we could talk to?’

He just shook his head, said he had no clue who they could talk to but he told them that he’d call if he found something out. He bowed, made a turn to walk back to the classroom, but he stopped and looked back. 

‘Detectives... I really hope he’s okay. I hope you let me know when you find something out, too.’

And then he disappeared behind the door. Hm, it seemed like he didn’t despise Wooyoung as much as he wanted the Detectives to believe. Or even as much as he wanted to believe himself. This whole case had a really weird feeling to it. Something just wasn’t right, but Yunho had no clue what it could be.

‘What if the stalker wasn’t a lie after all?’

Yunho turned to Seonghwa after he’d shoved his notepad away. 

‘You mean this stalker... did something to him?’

Detective Park shrugged. It was possible, he said, but they didn’t have any evidence. They couldn’t even be sure whether this stalker actually existed or not. They really had nothing. All they had was parents who didn’t care whether their son was chilling his base at home or whether he was lying in a ditch, cold and lifeless. Sure, Wooyoung didn’t sound like the nicest kid to be around with, especially after what he’d done, but that doesn’t mean he should be harmed. And Yunho wanted to find him at all costs. 

‘You know that the first 72 hours in a missing person investigation are vital. Those are already up, like, almost twice.’

‘I graduated from Police School and can do simple maths. I figured as much. What I believe for now that this is a big misunderstanding. This boy was in a difficult situation and probably just ran away from home for some time. You heard it, he needs attention and this is just exactly what he’s getting out of it. He’ll notice that wherever he might be it’s not as comfortable as his home and then he will return to his family. Let’s give it some time. We can’t do much more, can we?’

Yunho blinked. _Once, twice_. Maybe trice. 

‘Are you serious, Detective? Well, I’m happy you’re so optimistic but still that doesn’t cross out the possibility of him being— being hurt. Somewhere in an unfamiliar place. We can’t just wait and see what’s going to happen. Besides, for how long do you intend to wait until you maybe think about doing something?’

Seonghwa waited a couple of seconds before he turned to Yunho and spoke to him in the calmest voice he’d ever heard.

‘Listen, _Jeong_. This is my case and as much as I hope that this boy is fine, we do not have anywhere to look for him at the moment, alright? And if you don’t want to come with me now, feel free to find a way to get to the station by yourself.’

With that the detective turned around and walked in the direction of the front doors.

Yunho sighed and closed his eyes for a second. This was unbelievable. How could he do that? What if this boy turned up injured or, well, dead? How would this man be able to live with that? Yunho couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to get over that guilt.

He opened his eyes again and glanced back into the classroom one last time. His eyes hovered over Yeosang, he seemed absentminded, and then his eyes met with those of a rather tall guy with curly hair. Yunho coughed slightly, then he looked away and followed his boss outside.

‘Detective Park. Can we do one last thing before we go back, please.’

Seonghwa stopped and turned around.

‘And that is what exactly?’

‘The dumpsters. Yeosang said Wooyoung was looking for a note or something. Maybe we can find it.’

‘You want me to go dumpster diving, is that what you’re asking?’

Yunho nodded. Seonghwa stared at him blankly. 

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

_Sigh_.

‘Alright. Come on, it’s only paper. Let’s make a deal. If we don’t find anything in the dumpsters I’ll shut up for the rest of the day. Okay?’

He saw Seonghwa thinking. 

‘I’ll give you 15 minutes.’

‘30.’

‘Fine.’

Then they went looking for the dumpsters. It didn’t take much time until they found them and Yunho immediately started searching for the note. And he noticed that people threw away a shit ton of paper. Useless paper. And Yunho searched. He searched the whole dumpster, every single corner, and he checked every teeny tiny piece of paper he could find. But nothing. He only found weird drawings, notes with insults written on them (he didn’t think one of those could be from this ‘stalker’, if he even existed) and just normal school papers. But nothing crucial, nothing he’d find suspicious.

‘Your 30 minutes are over.’

Yunho looked up for half a second, then he shook his head wildly.

‘Just five more minutes. I swear there must be something here.’

‘Stop it. Maybe they’ve already thrown it all away. Let’s get going.’

Yunho didn’t listen. He knew that, he knew that the chance of this paper still being in that dumpster was fairly small, but he really, really wanted to find it. He really-

He looked up. Seonghwa was already leaving. He couldn’t believe this. He said five more minutes, why not give him five then? He’d only given him two, maybe three more minutes. He still had some time left. He gulped. His eyes were piercing through his partner’s back. He knew himself that he was being foolish, okay? He just wanted to do the right thing. A deep sigh. He stepped away from the dumpster, looking at it for a few seconds while trying to accept his defeat. And just before he set to follow his partner, he saw a crumpled-up paper next to the dumpster, looking at him all innocent.

Yunho bent down to open it up and read it:

_ You look like an angel... your smell is addictive. Please wear a warmer jacket, it’s getting colder, you shouldn’t get sick. _

He frowned. What a nice love note.

‘Are you gonna get in the car or not?’ He heard Seonghwa screaming from the distance. 

‘Yeah!’

Yunho shoved the little not into his pocket and then quickly joined Seonghwa before he could get away without him. He got into the car, Seonghwa looking at him curious.

‘Got anything?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

Seonghwa nodded, then he started the engine and Yunho kept his mouth shut during the whole ride. 

*

Friday. This was his fifth day here, together with San. Sometimes, though, he felt like he was living alone. San was going out all the time. He’d leave in the morning around eight, come back after approximately two hours, then he‘d prepare food and they ate around 12, and then San would leave again for a period of time that was different every day. It was the fourth day in the row now that followed this specific pattern and it wasn’t bad, you know? Wooyoung didn’t feel comfortable enough around San so to be with him 24 hours a day, staring at each other expressionless and without words. So being alone gave him time to relax, calm down, and organize his thoughts.

Let’s look at Wooyoung’s thoughts, shall we?

Wednesday was fine. Wooyoung woke up, he didn’t know where he was for a second, then he remembered and then the sirens inside his head rang for a solid two minutes, then he calmed down again and noticed that San had already left the apartment. He could breathe. He calmed down, and for the rest of the day he didn’t hear these sirens again. San came back, they ate, he left again and Wooyoung fell asleep before he could see him again. Thursday was a bit more critical. He got up together with San, he could barely swallow his food when they were having breakfast, he didn’t know why he got more and more uncomfortable with San instead of getting used to his presence. He believed that San noticed that, which was why he was so short on words and that was why he always tried to choose the rights words when he was actually saying something. Wooyoung appreciated that, he surely did, but even though he hated silence, not talking to his stalker was preferable to him. But Friday morning, he, _how should I put it_, had a _minor_ breakdown. A minor panic attack. Really, nothing big. Just minor. 

Oh my fucking God. 

I repeat: _Oh. My fucking. God. _

Someone had cut his air off. Wooyoung was suffocating. God, this feeling was horrible! Have you ever been strangled? Has someone ever choked you? And not in the ‘good’ way? Wooyoung coughed. He coughed and coughed, his hands scratching his neck, trying to get these invisible hands off of it. He felt so dizzy and the more he thought about what was happening, the more he was trying to understand what was going on, the worse it got. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t he breathe? His shaking hands crawled their way up into his hair, his filthy, ugly hair that he hadn’t washed in three days, roughing it up while trying not to give in to these tears that were already fighting their way down his cheeks. He was going insane. If at some point in this story I had mentioned that Wooyoung was going insane, that wasn’t it. It was now. Wooyoung had made a huge mistake. A mistake only a dumb person would do, a mistake no _sane_ person would ever even consider an option. Attention here, attention there. He didn’t care about it. He wanted to go home. He wanted to leave. He didn’t want to see this creepy stalker anymore. No, he didn’t believe that San would hurt him. He didn’t believe that San would kill him. San liked Wooyoung. Maybe he would even go as far as to say that San _loved_ Wooyoung. But that didn’t exactly make things better. In fact, it made things worse. What if he lost control and one day he’d pin Wooyoung down onto the floor, doing things to him Wooyoung didn’t want? What if he’d already touched him before, but Wooyoung wasn’t aware? What if San was the type of person to get turned on by looking at photos of Wooyoung? What if he did the same things Wooyoung did after looking at hot celebrities? 

Wooyoung stopped his train of thought. In what way was Wooyoung better than San? He, too, was looking at pictures of people he found attractive, imagining them in his head as his hand slit into his pants. He, too, would fantasize about people he’d seen in the media or on his instagram feed. And now he was asking himself if that wasn’t just as bad as what San was doing? He was disgusted. He was disgusted at himself. Suddenly, he wished to never touch himself in any appropriate way ever again. No, never again. He was done. He was _so_ done. Done with pleasing himself. Done with seeking attention. Done with this whole fucking stalker shit. 

_Knock, knock._

His tears? Stopped. His shivering? Stopped. His heart? Pounding quietly. Was he hearing things or did someone just knock on the door?

_ Knock. Knock, knock, knock. _

The cops. Oh, _God_, it’s the cops. They’d found him. It’s over. They got him. They’d bring him home. It’s over. It’s game over. Checkmate, boy. Time to leave. Time to turn back time. Time to return to normal again. Time to calm down. He’d go home. His first words to the public? Yes, it was fucking horrible. Mum, Dad, I didn’t miss you one bit but I still like our cozy home more than this dumpster. Peace out.

‘Hyung!’

_ Excuse me? _

‘Hyung, open the door! It’s me, mum made cake!’

Cake? Cake. _Cake!_ Oh God, сake. Yes. Whatever cake it was, whoever it was to bring him cake, he’d accept it. _Wait_. What kind of cops would bring cake? Wooyoung’s heart slowly calmed down, his panic attack crawled back into the cave where it had emerged from. His tears dried on his swollen cheeks. All he could think of now was this mysterious cake. He slowly got up, tiptoeing his way to the door. He pressed one eye against the fisheye, seeing nothing but a tiny head with neatly combed hair on top of it. Well, that was a fairly tiny cop. 

Wooyoung didn’t think. He just opened the door. He didn’t know whether he could actually smell the cake or if it was his imagination. 

‘Finally, San hyung. Mum made too much cake for us all so-‘ The boy looked up. Very tiny man. Then he frowned. ‘You’re not San hyung. Who are you?’

Uhm. _Wait_. Wooyoung stared down on the little man. In fact, he recognized him. He was that little boy he saw outside a couple of days ago. That boy that was walking to kindergarten (I assume) with his mum, the one that had stared right into Wooyoung’s soul. Did they live here, too? Were they neighbors? Wooyoung’s eyes then crawled a bit further downwards to examine the cake. Oh. Ohh, strawberry. There were strawberries on top of it. I repeat, strawberries spotted on top of the cake. Wooyoung blinked, slapping himself internally. _Focus! _

‘A friend. I’m... I’m San’s friend.’

Internal choking. He couldn’t believe he’d said that.

‘You’re lying.’

‘Excuse me, _what_?’

Wooyoung raised both of his eyebrows. Did this little brat just accuse him of lying-

‘San hyung doesn’t have friends. So what are you doing in his apartment!’

San didn’t have _what_? What the hell, Wooyoung didn’t care if San didn’t have friends. He was trying not to blow his own cover and beside that, well, maybe San did have friends?! Who was he to judge, little brat, Wooyoung really could just- _no_. No. Think about the cake. We want the cake, not the little boy’s heart.

‘Alright, you got me there. I’m his... his personal trainer. We... we do yoga. Do you know what yoga is? I bet you don’t. It’s adult stuff. I didn’t want to tell you because San doesn’t want anyone to know he’s into yoga. He thinks it’s a little embarrassing, you know?’

Did he believe that? Wooyoung’s eyes were glued onto those of the boy. He looked like his brain stopped functioning for a second, then it started working again and was trying to process everything Wooyoung had just told him. _Damn it_, Wooyoung. _Couldn’t you have just come up with a better lie? You were so good at lying, this was an absolute disappointment!_

‘Oh. Ah, I understand.’ _Giggling_. ‘San hyung is so weird.’

Oh, yeah. She sure is. _Wait_. He believed him? Insert evil laugh. This boy was so naive. But hey, he was like, 4? Of course he was naive. He’d probably even believed Wooyoung if he told him he and San were members of the Power Rangers, fighting evil monsters. But if he had said that, this boy probably wouldn’t let go of them anymore. Wooyoung, focus. The cake!

‘You mentioned a cake?’

The little boy nodded, holding up the plate he was carrying carefully in both of his tiny hands.

‘Mum made strawberry cake. But it’s too much for us. She said I should give it to San hyung.’

‘This is _so_ generous. I am _so_ happy San hyung has _such_ nice neighbors. Do you want me to give the cake to San?’

The boy thought about it for a second.

‘Why can’t I come in and give it to San hyung?’

For _fuck’s_ sake.

‘Well, you see, little boy. San hyung is trying out a really difficult yoga position and he’d be too embarrassed if you saw him. This should be our little secret, what do you say?’

Again, the boy giggled. Then he nodded. He understood. It was their little secret now. _Wink, wink_. He handed over the cake, told Wooyoung again that this cake was specifically for San, but of course he wanted to keep their mutual secret and so he wouldn’t come in this time. Wooyoung nodded, thanked him and ensured him that he’d immediately give the cake to San. And then the boy disappeared without further questions and Wooyoung closed the door. 

His eyes hovered above the cake. He smiled. _Sorry, San. But you sure wouldn’t mind it if your sweetheart ate the cake in your place, right?_ Wooyoung persuaded himself by nodding and then went into the kitchen to grab a fork. Then he went into the living room again, laid down on the floor and began to eat the cake.

It was delicious, it was worth it. This was probably the best thing that had happened to him in the past five days. It was really delicious. Maybe this wonderful, beautiful mother of this little brat baked cakes like these more often. And maybe he’d get to try them. Ah, yes. Wooyoung had calmed down again. After finishing the cake he pushed the plate away from him, then he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, spreading all of his four limbs in every direction. He was fine. This was okay.

Then, suddenly, his heart skipped a beat. 

He’d just exposed himself to a little boy that probably lived next to them who could tell his mother about this alleged personal trainer and his mother would then get suspicious and call the police, then the police would come and take Wooyoung and suddenly-

Suddenly Wooyoung didn’t want to leave anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	7. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings c:  
Enjoy guys!! And happy holidays~  
Thanks a LOT for your support!  
  
Credits to the owner of the pic!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 6, Question**

**제 6 장 , 질문**

He’d fallen asleep. Not for too long, maybe for thirty-seven minutes. He woke up with the sound of the door opening, he slowly lifted his head to see who was coming in, as though he didn’t know who it was, as though it could’ve been someone else than San. Their eyes met for a moment, then Wooyoung’s glanced at his right hand which was holding two plastic bags filled with groceries. He let his head sink onto the floor again, his hair spread into all directions. He expected for San to bring the groceries into the kitchen, but instead he heard how he sat down beside him, putting the bags onto the ground. Wooyoung turned his head to San, he saw how he was searching for something in one of the bags until he fished a little bottle out of it and held it to Wooyoung’s face.

‘You looked exhausted. I brought something that’ll give you some energy.’

Wooyoung actually found that really nice of him. It wasn’t really something he liked or something he drank occasionally, but, even though the strawberry cake had already lifted his mood a lot and even though it’s not that he was physically exhausted but rather mentally, he hoped that drinking this (not so tasty) vitamin juice would trick him into feeling better. So he sat up and drank it all in one go, not looking at San once but he knew that he was happy Wooyoung had accepted the drink. Then he lied down again, closing his eyes. 

‘Can I lie down next to you?’

Wooyoung just nodded, saying nothing. Why was San like that? Why was he not clinging onto Wooyoung, why wasn’t he suffocating him with affection and this love that he apparently had for Wooyoung? This felt so fake. Wooyoung was happy that San didn’t touch him without Wooyoung asking him to do so, but at the same time it just felt like San wasn’t much of a stalker either. It felt like Wooyoung had actually lied, that there was no stalker but a simply a lonely person that thought living with a stranger he’d coincidentally taken some random photos of would be exciting. Spoiler alert, it wasn’t exciting, Wooyoung was confused and he just couldn’t see through San, he didn’t know what any of his intentions were. But then he lied down next to Wooyoung, fairly close to him, but he didn’t touch him. Both of their heads were facing upwards, eyes piercing through the ceiling as if they could look straight through it.

‘I ate your strawberry cake.’ Wooyoung said without turning his head to him. ‘A little boy brought it.’

‘That’s Yoojin.’ San said. ‘His mum always bakes me cake.’

_ Very good cake, indeed. _

‘He said you didn’t have any friends.’

At that, San’s head rapidly turned to Wooyoung.

‘What? That’s not true. I do have a friend.’ San pouted. This was basically the first time he’d shown real emotions if you didn’t count his creepy smiles that Wooyoung had witnessed once or twice. But Wooyoung raised his left eyebrow, slightly turning his head to face San. He didn’t really believe him.

‘You do?’

San nodded.

‘His name is Hongjoong. His hair is red like chili paste. He talks way too much.’

Oh? What was that? _Giggles_. Wooyoung had started giggling. San looked at him shocked while Wooyoung tried to figure out whether he was laughing more at the fact that the first metaphor that came into San’s mind was chili paste-like hair or the fact that it was so obvious that he would say that this ‘friend’ was always talking way too much because San only ever spoke three words himself. Wooyoung didn’t care which of those made him laugh because, hey, he was laughing. And before he turned his head to the ceiling again, he saw San‘s lips curl into a smile. Not in a creepy one this time, rather one that spread out warmth and sincerity.

‘How would you describe my hair, then?’ Wooyoung said, still giggling a little bit.

San didn’t need to think.

‘Beautiful.’

Wooyoung shook his head. ‘No, I meant in a funny way.’

San turned his head to the ceiling. _In a funny way?_ He thought. 

‘Well.’ He then proceeded. ‘My rice cooker is silver, too.’

_ Huh? _

Wooyoung bursted out in laughter. 

‘I can’t believe you just compared my wonderful hair to a rice cooker when your hair has almost the exact same color.’

San twisted a strand of hair between his fingers, observing its color. He slightly shook his head. ‘I wanted it to look exactly like yours. But it’s more blonde than silver.’

Ah, again, the shivers. Now, this was creepy. Of course he had dyed his hair because of Wooyoung. You see, San, this is why you only have one friend. No, wait. This is probably why you don’t talk so much because you know whatever you say sounds either from another planet, completely weird or just utterly creepy. Wooyoung had fallen silent at that comment, he didn’t know why it had so much impact on him. I mean, it was just hair after all. _But still, you know?_

‘I’m sorry.’

Wooyoung blinked, now his head turned to San again. He noticed that he’d sat up straight and had moved a few inches away from Wooyoung. He wanted to ask him what exactly he was sorry for, that he didn’t quite understand, but by then San had already stood up again and left the living room with both grocery bags. Wooyoung’s eyes stuck to him until he fully disappeared, then he put one arm over his eyes. What the hell was that? One moment Wooyoung felt weird next to him, then he noticed that San actually wasn’t that bad to be around with but then, the next moment, something completely weird would happen and Wooyoung would feel the urge to tear open the door and run for his life. It was the subtle things that were so unsettling. This was why he was never able to calm down, this was why he was so confused and didn’t know what and how to feel about this man. In conclusion: No, he didn’t think San was a bad man. But actually, yes, he was. Does that make it any clearer? Yes, I don’t think so, either.

Wooyoung rolled onto his side, placing his arm underneath his head. The other hand wandered off to the empty plate where once a delicious cake was waiting to be devoured and with his finger he scooped up the last bits of whipped cream. He wondered about the plate, if San would give it back. He wondered whether San was upset about Wooyoung having eaten the cake. He wondered if this chili-paste-haired man called Hongjoong actually existed. And he hoped so, he really hoped so, because he found that San really needed a friend.

On that day—it was still Friday—San didn’t leave in the afternoon. He didn’t rush when they were having lunch and when he finished before Wooyoung he also didn’t stand up but rather waited for him to eat up. 

‘Do you want more rice?’ San pointed at his empty bowl. ‘There’s still some left.’

Wooyoung’s glanced over to the rice cooker that innocently chilled on the counter like nothing had happened. But Wooyoung shook his head, he was full, but he pointed at his own head.

‘If I’m hungry I can get some from my own rice cooker.’ He said, jokingly. He grinned at San, but San looked at him confused.

‘What do you mean?’

Ah, for real? _Oh, come on._

‘My hair. Remember? Half an hour ago? You said my hair looked like a rice cooker. I made a joke. Laugh.’

San stared at him for a minute, then he went ‘_Ah_’ and nodded, but he didn’t laugh. Wooyoung gave up and accepted his defeat, there was no use. This dude had three minutes of emotion capacity a day and he’d already used it up when he found out that people believed he didn’t have any friends. This man was lifeless, he also probably didn’t understand sarcasm. Wooyoung wanted to test it out, but you know what? No. He was done for today. He wouldn’t try to interact with him anymore because it’d only result in weird conversations and by all means, Wooyoung could do without them. But to be honest (don’t tell Wooyoung, because at this point he also hadn’t yet realized this himself) the anxiety he’d felt in the morning had disappeared. He felt better after exchanging a few more words with him, no matter if the conversations didn’t have much meaning to them or if they were odd. It made the situation much less worse, actually. It made living with a stalker almost feel normal. _Almost_. 

He wondered what was going on in San’s head, though. He wondered if he really had any serious issues. Ah, no. _Rewind_. He did have issues, that was clear, so Wooyoung was wondering what _kind_ of issues he was having. He was a stalker, yes. But what else? Wooyoung’s eyes examined San. Yes, he was right. His hair didn’t look anything like Wooyoung’s, but that’s good. Wooyoung had payed a shit ton of money at the hairdressers and that for a man’s cut. He’d be really pissed if one could just achieve his gorgeous look with do-it-yourself hair dye. It didn’t look ugly, though. The color was nice. The problem was San’s hair in general. His haircut. One couldn’t even call it a haircut, to be honest. It was a pure mess. His sides were short, the hair at the back was longer but then again some of it was shorter than the rest. A mess. 

‘Do you cut your own hair?’

San looked over to him, shaking his head. ‘Hongjoong.’

_Oh my God your friend did this to you? Damn, you should’ve filed a lawsuit. This was assault._ If this guy was a professional hairdresser, Wooyoung swore he’d never go to any hairdresser he didn’t know ever again. But luckily, luckily for the sake of Wooyoung, the people and all the professional hairdressers, when Wooyoung asked San if Hongjoong was a hairdresser, he shook his head.

‘He is a freelance journalist and photographer.’

Ah. _Ah_. Explains a lot. Made much more sense, actually. Hongjoong was San’s key to... pretty much all this.

‘Did he teach you how to take pictures?’

After putting away the dirty dishes, San sat down again. And by the way, they were not done talking about San’s choice of hairstyle. They’d continue talking about that later.

‘Yes.’ San said. ‘Hongjoong gave me his old camera, too.’ 

This was good. It seemed like San was finally talking a bit more and Wooyoung wanted to talk about this, too. ‘Show me, please.’

He’d expected for San to get the camera and come back, but he asked Wooyoung to follow him and off they wandered into the room where Wooyoung had only been into once. It still was messy, it didn’t seem as though San had entered this room a lot after he’d brought Wooyoung here. But seeing how he just lets Wooyoung enter like it was nothing creepy at all explained why he didn’t get mad at him the other time when he had caught Wooyoung coming out of the room. He gestured him to sit on the chair after he put away the papers and photos that were on it. And Wooyoung did so, he sat down and watched San grabbing his infamous camera.

‘It’s not easy. Taking pictures, I mean.’ He said and pushed a little button on it, resulting in the camera switching on. ‘But I improved, yes. I’ve gotten better.’

San proceeded to show Wooyoung a few pictures, the last pictures he took, but it were all scenery pictures. No Wooyoung. But San was right. His photos were pretty awesome, they really looked kind of professional. So Wooyoung nodded.

‘Does Hongjoong know?’

‘About you?’

Wooyoung nodded. San shook his head. So no one knew. This Hongjoong guy had taught San how the be a stalker and he didn’t even know. This man was basically Victor Frankenstein creating a... a monster? Wooyoung’s eyes wandered from the camera display to San’s eyes. He wondered if he really was a monster? San kneeled in front of Wooyoung, but he made sure he wouldn’t step on or squash any photos of Wooyoung with his legs.

‘Maybe I’m not good, though. Maybe it is just that you’re so wonderful to take photos of. Maybe it’s you who’s doing all the work.’ 

A quick glance into Wooyoung’s eyes. _Maybe?_ Maybe that was true? Wooyoung did believe that taking photos of him was fairly easy because he just looked good from every angle, so one couldn’t really fuck up easily. He liked that. He liked that San had said that and he believed he was right. But he knew that San also had some talent because the scenery photos and all the other photos in which Wooyoung couldn’t be seen were beautiful as well. Wooyoung had hundreds of questions to San. He knew nothing about him, yet he’d been here for almost a whole week. He was practically living with a stranger, though that wasn’t true because to San, Wooyoung was no stranger. San knew Wooyoung much better than he liked to admit.

‘I want to ask you so many things.’ Wooyoung then whispered. ‘I don’t even know where to start.’

San put the camera onto the table. ‘I’m scared.’

Wooyoung blinked. What did that have to do with what Wooyoung just said?

‘Scared of what?’ He asked noticeably confused. 

‘That you get scared if I answer your questions. What if you want to run away? I don’t want you to go.’

He didn’t want to lose Wooyoung. San said that he didn’t want Wooyoung to leave. To let him alone. To abandon him. And now Wooyoung finally got it. He didn’t talk much and walks away midst conversation because he was scared that he’d say something that would make Wooyoung feel unsafe. And judging by the things he had said so far, most of them had really creeped Wooyoung out. He was probably focusing so much on trying not to scare him that it results in scaring Wooyoung even more. And that’s why he’d apologized earlier, for saying that he dyed his hair the way Wooyoung did it because he noticed that it had made Wooyoung uncomfortable. This was so refreshing. Wooyoung wasn’t scared anymore. Wooyoung, in fact, was a bit flustered. There was no need being scared of San, he’d never hurt Wooyoung. He’d never touch Wooyoung. He would want to touch him, he was probably dying to, but if there was a chance of making Wooyoung uncomfortable by that, he’d not do it. He would never risk the chance of Wooyoung wanting to escape from him. He’d rather not talk a single word to him than losing him completely. Because he knew that as soon as Wooyoung stepped out of the door, he wouldn’t come back. Ever. San wasn’t the one ruling over Wooyoung. It was Wooyoung ruling over San.

‘I want you to talk to me. I want you to show me that you want me here. If you never talk to me it feels even more like you’d want me gone.’

San’s eyes widened as if he was told that war just broke out. Then, Wooyoung felt San’s fingers digging into Wooyoung’s calves and for the first time, it didn’t bother Wooyoung. Even though he didn’t say a word, his lips told Wooyoung—no, they begged him not to leave. That he didn’t know that. He didn’t intend to give him this impression.

‘It’s okay.’ Wooyoung said. ‘But from now on I want you to show me that you want me here. I want you to show me that I’m everything for you. If I don’t want something I’ll tell you so don’t be scared. I won’t leave. I already told you I have nowhere to go.’

Saying that San should show him that Wooyoung was everything to him didn’t mean that he was allowed to touch Wooyoung in special places, no, but if you guys haven’t forgotten the true intention behind this all, a short reminder: attention. Wooyoung still wanted his attention. And you couldn’t tell me that a stalker wasn’t the best way to gain it. 

San nodded at him. He understood and he obeyed. ‘You said you had questions.’

Finally. Wooyoung nodded. He thought about his questions, it wasn’t easy to choose which one to ask first. But after some time he finally decided.

‘How did this start? Have we ever met before?’

‘22 March 2018. I got fired that day, I was working at a restaurant, was a good place. Good pay. Noble, very noble. You were there.’ San looked around the room, he was avoiding Wooyoung’s eyes. ‘I brought you the false dish. Your parents were really angry. You were angry, too. Not at me, though, but at your parents.’

Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he could remember that day. He’d go out with his parents from time to time and they’d always eat at a fancy restaurant. And it wouldn’t have been the first time that their parents got angry with someone because something didn’t suit them. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary.

‘I wasn’t paying attention. It wasn’t the first incident that day. I made lots of mistakes that day. I wasn’t in the right mind, you know? And then I got fired. I saw you on your way out. You were complaining how you could never have a peaceful meal without your parents complaining, you were so mean to them while it was me who had made a mistake and your parents just did what they were expected to do. They had all the right to complain. But I hated you for being like that.’

‘Wait—you hated on me? What did _I_ do wrong?!’ Wooyoung interrupted him. Uhm, how dare he??

‘Because you didn’t know. Because I’d have loved to have your parents. I was so angry that day, so angry and when I was finally feeling better again... I saw you. Three days later. On your way home from school. I was looking for a new job, but instead I followed you. And I did it again. And again, and again. And one day I realized that it wasn’t your fault. I realized I shouldn’t have been angry at you that day. That you were right and that even though we’re so different, somewhere we’re really similar to each other. And it made me obsessed. To know that I wasn’t alone.’

Wooyoung didn’t quite understand what San was trying to get across. Was he trying to say that his obsession with Wooyoung was based on hatred? Did he not love him but rather... resent him? But he said he’d changed his mind.

‘So how do you feel about me now?’

San smiled again. The happy smile. ‘You’re not at fault. You did everything right. People... were so mean to you and you don’t deserve that. You deserve only the best. I’m sorry I can’t give this to you in this shabby apartment with these inelegant clothes, the cold water and the hard floor. But at least I can shield you from horrible people.’

_Oh, San._ Don’t worry about these things. Wooyoung may seem materialistic but in fact, all he needed was attention and revenge. And if you could give him that, he was happy. He didn’t want anything else but that. And he was sure, _San_, that you could make him the happiest man alive.

‘Do you like me, San?’

Said finally looked up into Wooyoung’s eyes. At that moment, San was thinking about how Wooyoung’s eyes were twinkling so beautifully and Wooyoung was thinking about how San’s eyes were sparkling.

‘You are everything to me, Wooyoung.’

He’d finally said his name.

*

Yunho’s eyes kept hovering over the case files. He was reading through the parents’ statement, he was going through what the boy’s friend had said and he was observing the picture the family had given them. A young, handsome boy in a school uniform. He wasn’t smiling, no emotion was visible on his face. It was just two days later on Sunday. It’s been a week since anyone had seen Wooyoung and there still seemed to be no signs of him. Yunho had been told to take it easy and it wasn’t just Detective Park who’d told him that. But Yunho didn’t want to take it easy. He couldn’t fathom how nonchalant everyone was about the whole case. Was it because lots of people, especially young teenagers, kept running away from home and now it’s become sort of a normal thing? Was it because Seoul was a big city and things like that just happened from time to time, it was normal? Was it because people had better things to do than to find a missing boy? Or was it because people were lazy, was it because they didn’t know where to look so they just gave up? Yunho was upset. This was nothing like he’d imagined his work to be. This was his dream job, he finally managed to become the kind of person he’d always wanted to be and now this? How was that fair? 

Yunho sighed as he closed the files. Yeah, maybe the others were right. Maybe he should just leave it.

‘Jeong.’

Yunho looked up. Detective Park had just entered the office, Yunho believed he’d left for a smoke. Which was fine, you know. Not that they had crimes to solve or something.

‘Grab your stuff. Wooyoung’s parents called.’

Yunho blinked. What? Why did they call? Had Wooyoung come home? Was he safe? Yunho tried to form a question with his mouth, but besides nothing but gibberish leaving his lips, Seonghwa had also already left again. Quickly, Yunho grabbed his stuff and followed him outside. His heart was pounding as he stepped into the car.

‘What- What did they say?’ Yunho was fiddling with the seatbelt. ‘Did he come home? Or did he call?’

‘No.’

_Click_. Yunho’s seatbelt finally clicked. ‘Did you say _no_?’

But if he hadn’t come home...?

‘Then why...?’

He heard Seonghwa sigh, he didn’t speak for a minute or so, but Yunho was bursting with curiosity. With every second that Seonghwa didn’t speak, he got more and more impatient. _Speak, Goddamnit!_

‘They found his backpack. A woman said she found it on the sidewalk and then sent it to the address she found in Wooyoung’s purse.’

Come again?

Yunho tried to process the information he got as he looked out of the window. _It’s okay. It’s fine. No need to panic. Maybe he just got rid of it because it bothered him. But why did he leave his purse? He’d need at least that, right?_

There were no words spoken for the rest of the ride until they got to the _mansion_. When they were let inside, they were exposed to a fairly unexpected situation. Wooyoung’s mother was actually in tears. Yes, everyone. She was showing emotions. She was visibly upset by the fact that her son was still missing and now it didn’t seem so much like a rebellious act of a teenager anymore. No, it much more seemed like he had been taken by force. And this assumption was only amplified when they were going through the stuff they found in the backpack. 

It was Wooyoung’s backpack, no doubt. His textbooks had his name written in them, then, of course, there was his purse, and they sadly also found his phone. All in all, it looked pretty bad. His phone had run out of battery so they’d plugged it into a charger and while waiting for it to turn on again, they were looking through his purse. They found his ID, several gift and credit cards and well, money. A pretty good amount of money for a teenager at that. If he had really run away he’d have taken this money with him. Maybe not his phone, no. But the money.

‘You’re lucky no one stole the backpack or the purse.’ Seonghwa said to his mother.

‘You think that’s what I’m worrying about?’

Oh, wow, this was new. Really new! Where was this calm and unbothered mother from two days ago? Maybe she’d finally realized the seriousness of this situation. 

‘Can we take a look at his room? Maybe we can find something there.’

‘It’s the first door upstairs.’

With that, the mother disappeared into another room and Yunho and Seonghwa went upstairs. Yunho hated admitting this but he was a little jealous at the fact that Wooyoung’s room was almost bigger than Yunho’s whole apartment. He didn’t even dare think about how much this must’ve costed, especially taking into account that Yunho could barely even maintain his own apartment and he really didn’t have a big one. This was Seoul after all.

And then they just began searching. Yunho (and Seonghwa probably too) didn’t exactly know what they were searching for, but when they found something they would know. They were looking for something like a diary, maybe this Wooyoung kid wrote down something that could be important for their case, but to be honest, Yunho didn’t quite believe that Wooyoung was the type of person to write a diary. They were looking under his pillows and even under his mattress, through his book shelves, because sometimes, hiding things in obvious places make them less visible. Yunho raised his eyebrow, looking at the magazines he found between the textbooks. It seems like Wooyoung already knew that trick.

‘Seems like our missing person swung both ways.’ Yunho said, holding up both a women’s and men’s porn magazine. Seonghwa didn’t say anything about that, he just ordered Yunho to put them back and focus on searching for actually important stuff. Yunho secretly rolled his eyes. They kept searching, but they couldn’t say that they were successful. They found a bunch of photos of Wooyoung, most of them were selfies taken with his friends. Or, well, friend. With Yeosang. Sometimes, however, you could see another boy in the picture, Yunho immediately recognized him. It was that boy who was staring at him the other day when they were questioning Yeosang. Another friend? Maybe they should’ve asked him questions, too.

‘What’s this?’ Yunho looked over to Seonghwa who just fished something out of the trash can. 

‘Photos. Polaroids.’

Yunho walked over to his partner to observe the pictures. They were crumpled, it seemed like Wooyoung had attempted to rip them apart but failed.

‘Why’d he throw them away? They look pretty.’

Seonghwa nodded. ‘Yes. They do. But it doesn’t seem like he took them himself.’ 

Yunho saw Seonghwa’s eyes wander around the room, then back to the photos, tapping on them with his pointing finger. ‘He doesn’t appear to have a Polaroid camera.’

‘Maybe one of his friends took them?’ Yunho said.

Seonghwa nodded. ‘Maybe.’

He gave Yunho the photos and then bent down to search the trash can for more photos. Who was dumpster diving now, huh?

But Yunho couldn’t look at the pictures for a long time until his partner caught his attention again. What now? Seonghwa was holding a little crumpled paper note that he unfolded and then read to Yunho.

_ ’ _ _Don’t be sad, please don’t be sad. I don’t like seeing you like that. I am here, I am real, please, dear, don’t be sad. It suffocates me. You are not alone, I am here, right next to you_.’

What... the hell? 

Yunho didn’t know what to say, neither did Seonghwa. 

‘Do you think it’s his own handwriting?’ Yunho said, well, he whispered. He didn’t know why he was whispering. Seonghwa just shrugged and then proceeded to search the desk for anything that Wooyoung might’ve written to compare the two handwritings. It didn’t take long for him to pull out school papers, several of them, all with the same handwriting. This must’ve been Wooyoung’s handwriting. However, the school notes and the little paper note... they didn’t match up. At all.

‘Wooyoung’s not dumb, though. If he’d been able to get that far with his stalker lie, he would’ve been smart enough to choose another handwriting, you know.’ 

Seonghwa was right. This paper didn’t really prove anything. 

‘Shit...’ Yunho shoved his hands into his pocket. This was tricky. They just couldn’t prove that Wooyoung didn’t write those. But, well, they also couldn’t prove that he did, right?

Yunho blinked. Wait. What was that? A took out a little paper that he felt in his pocket and looking at it he remembered what it was. Seonghwa looked at him confused as Yunho put the paper on the table right next to the other one. The paper and the handwriting matched with the other little note.

‘What’s that?’ Seonghwa glances back and forth between Yunho and the notes.

‘I found that in the dumpsters at Wooyoung’s school. Didn’t think much of it but... see there. They match.’

Seonghwa brushed through his hair, he seemed to think. Then he nodded. 

‘Take the notes and the pictures. We gotta talk to his friend again. And we should probably get the other one as well.’ 

Then, Seonghwa walked out of the room. Yunho smiled for a second. Not because the situation seemed to look worse now, no, he wasn’t that kind of a person, but because Seonghwa was finally doing something. Because Seonghwa had realized that the chance of Wooyoung being in danger didn’t seem to be as small as he had hoped for anymore. They’d finally give their best to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	8. The Poster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone ♥  
I hope you guys have a wonderful start into the new year, let’s make this year better than 2019.  
Stay safe, healthy and happy and I hope you guys are looking forward to this story as well.  
We’re all hyped for ATEEZ, right? The teaser pics are i n s a n e 
> 
> No trigger warning!  
Have lots of fun with the chapter  
And let’s find out about the situation from, well, another perspective ^^ 
> 
> (Credits to the owner of the picture!)

** BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 7, The Poster**

**제 7 장 , 포스터**

Watching him sleep. Seeing him breathe, calmly and unbothered. How his chest lifts when he inhaled and how this tiny, quiet sound of deep sleep leaves his lips as he exhaled. It warmed him from the inside, made his insides boil. Not from anger, from love. Excessive love. He inhaled, blinked. Blinked again. Exhaled. Then he turned away from Wooyoung. He was sad, sleeping so far away from him. Sleeping on the floor didn’t bother him, that wasn’t the problem. But he’d have liked to sleep closer to him. Next to him. Wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing him against his body to warm him. Not to do other things. Just to warm him. _It was cold, Wooyoung. How were you able to sleep?_ No, it was fine. As long as he was asleep, as long as he wasn’t shivering anymore. He should’ve bought him another blanket. He should’ve invested the money into buying more useful stuff. _You did it again, San, you stupid, stupid boy._ He clenched his hand into a fist and hit his forehead. _You did it again. _

He was feeling uncomfortable. And good. He was feeling uncomfortable, but good. He was confused. Overwhelmed with feelings and emotions. He was suffocating in them. Was this love? Was that what love felt like? He’d always imagined it to feel different. How? He didn’t know. But different. He couldn’t help but turn around again, now facing Wooyoung. So beautiful. _No, it was fine, San. You shouldn’t be so selfish. He’d finally stopped trembling. He’d finally stopped piercing holes into your back, waiting for you to fall asleep so he could close his eyes without fearing for you to crawl up behind him_. Finally he’d stopped whining in his sleep. San was sure Wooyoung didn’t know about that, but he was talking in his sleep. Not every night, only sometimes. It was cute, San liked it. He found that he fell asleep easier when he heard Wooyoung talk, even if he couldn’t understand his mumbling sometimes, even if—_when_ he understood him—Wooyoung only ever seemed to have bad dreams. It was fine! San didn’t have to lie next to him, pressed against... pressed against his body, his soft skin—he sighed, louder than he’d expected. His hands quickly covered his mouth. _Get yourself together, you don’t want to wake him up, now that he’s sleeping so lovely! You always do that, you always make things worse, San. Always!_

He thought about today. _See, San? You made him feel uncomfortable by not talking to him. You thought not talking would make things easier for him, you knew this was hard for him, so why would you make things worse? Why?_

‘I don’t know.’ San whispered as if someone was waiting for him to give an answer, his hands still pressed against his lips. ‘I can talk now, Wooyoung. I can talk as much as you want, I will never ever shut up if that’s what you want.’

_ Shut up, stupid. You’re waking him up! _

San’s hands wandered from his lips into his hair, massaging his scalp. _Tomorrow. You could talk to him tomorrow. Let him sleep now, he had a lot to process, he needed to rest._ San nodded to himself, he looked at Wooyoung for another few seconds before he turned away again. He didn’t want to scare him, he had to have a good sleep. Sleeping wasn’t easy for San, however. No matter how hard he pressed his eyelids together, he just wouldn’t fall asleep. And this would repeat itself every single night. It had nothing to do with Wooyoung now being here, nothing to do with San sleeping on the floor. It had been like that way before they started living together. San never slept enough. San didn’t enjoy sleeping because it felt like he had to work for it. And no matter how exhausted he was, when he woke up, he would feel even worse and with much less energy than before. So what if he ran out of energy one day? Would he die? Oh, oh, he would die. He sure would.  _ Mommy, I’m coming! _

_ No, no. San. No. You mustn’t do that. You mustn’t leave your precious Wooyoung alone just like that. How dare you even think about abandoning him? He was so courageous and so strong yet you were complaining about how you weren’t able to fall asleep? You’re so selfish. No wonder people were thinking you didn’t have any friends. How would someone want to be friends with you when you’re that selfish! How could you even live with yourself— _

His eyes opened, his thoughts plunged into silence. It was exhausting. It was so exhausting.

It felt as though his eyes would fall out any second. They were swollen, he hadn’t gotten any sleep. Well, no. Some. He fell asleep. Woke up after approximately 20 minutes. Then he doze off again. And then woke up. The whole time. One time he heard someone fighting next door. He got angry because he feared that would wake Wooyoung up. But it didn’t. He’d slept through. Even now he was still sleeping. San was astonished about how Wooyoung could sleep for so long. Sometimes, when he came back from buying groceries or from work, he’d still catch him asleep. And then he’d wake up and only eat breakfast, San didn’t even have to cook lunch. He understood Wooyoung. He wasn’t angry at him for sleeping so long, no. He’d never be angry about that. He was happy Wooyoung found sleep. He must’ve been so exhausted from all the things he’d gone through. He was relieving stress, he was calming down, getting used to his new home. San liked seeing that but he also wished to be home more often. Maybe he should ask for some time off. Yes, yes he’d do that. He’d ask immediately. He wanted to spend more time with Wooyoung. Wooyoung said he wanted that, he said he wanted San to give him attention. And he’d love to. He’d love to listen to him all day long. He’d love to spent every second with him. If he only had enough money so he wouldn’t have to go to work. 

San prepared breakfast so that Wooyoung could eat some when he’d wake up later. He’d buy another blanket today, the thought of Wooyoung still being cold during the night made him sick and he hated it. He covered the food so it wouldn’t go bad and then he took his phone, his wallet and the plate that belonged to his neighbors and left the apartment. He knew that Mrs. Kim was awake because she had to take her son to the bus station a bit earlier. So he knocked on the door next to his apartment. To his surprise, Yoojin opened the door, and not his mother.

‘Yoojin?’ San stared at him. ‘You’re not in kindergarten?’

He shook his head. ‘No, Hyung. I didn’t want to go.’

San just nodded, he knew that feeling. Then he held up the plate.

‘Oh, the cake. I made sure your yoga- your  _ friend _ would give it to you. Did you like it?’

San stared at him. Friend... The cake? He didn’t eat the cake. Wooyoung ate the cake. Oh no, was he that hungry? _San, you stupid boy. Why did you never buy him sweets? You’re so mean. You’re—_

‘Hyung?’

He nodded. ‘Very good.’ 

Yoojin smiled at him. ‘I’ll go now, Hyung. Let’s play sometime okay?’

San nodded and waved. Yoojin took the plate, waved back and closed the door. He really wanted to play with Yoojin. Yoojin had nice toys, San had never had something like that, yet Yoojin always complained about how the other boys had much nicer toys than him. San didn’t understand this. What he would do, however, was buy a cake for Wooyoung. He liked strawberry, so maybe San should get him strawberry cake. But what if he liked something else for a change? Did he like apple pie? Or was he more the chocolate kind of type? _Ah, San, you idiot! You don’t have to think that hard, you know what he likes. And you know where he likes his cake from._ But first the blanket.

It was easy to find a blanket that San thought would keep Wooyoung warm. It wasn’t the most beautiful blanket, there were bears on it, all over the blanket, but it was the warmest one. At least that’s what San thought. It wasn’t that expensive either, so he bought a pillow with the same pattern on it, too. Oh, right. Shampoo. Wooyoung used this expensive one, it smelled like vanilla, sadly it was too expensive for San to buy. He bought another vanilla shampoo, a cheaper one. A toothbrush he’d already bought him... anything else? _Ah, cake. The cake. Get the cake._

San had to admit that the bakery was a bit farther away from home, but that was okay. For Wooyoung he’d even walk to North Korea if he wanted that. He’d caught Wooyoung walking into  _A Tiny Bakery_ more than once and he’d always buy the same cake. Lemon raspberry. When he entered the bakery he already saw what he wanted. How much should he take with him? All of it? What if it went bad, though? But... Wooyoung liked that cake. His eyes glanced at the little price tag. _Oh_.

‘What can I do for you, sir?’

San didn’t look up but rather pointed at the cake. ‘Lemon raspberry. Two pieces, please.’

‘Of course. Anything else?’

San looked around. They not only had cake but other sweets as well. These... these French things that were extremely expensive. They called them, what, macarons? And then they had muffins. Muffins with macarons on top. Even more expensive. And then there were other sweets San didn’t even know the names of.

‘No, thanks.’ He then said, overwhelmed by the choice (and the price). Maybe another time.

He quickly went home, he wanted to put the cake into the fridge or maybe Wooyoung had also already woken up. But it turned out that wasn’t the case. When San entered the room again, Wooyoung was still asleep. Deeply. San liked that, he looked so sweet when he was asleep. So peaceful and calm. _Oh, the cake. Quick. _San quickly went into the kitchen to put the cake away. He was glad he’d bought it. Wooyoung would be so happy when he sees it. He quickly wrote a note, saying that there was cake for him in the fridge. Then he walked into the living room, very quietly indeed, he didn’t want to wake him up. San put down the blanket and the pillow right next to Wooyoung and then he left the room again. Okay, no. He left it after around five minutes. Wooyoung was just too beautiful not to look at. The shampoo he put down in the bathroom and then he went into his working room. It really looked like a mess. San wasn’t like that, usually. He was a very tidy person but he got so angry last time when he found out people were bullying Wooyoung so he lost his temper a bit and he hadn’t been able to clean everything up. Since he had still some time left before he had to go to work he’d do that. Quietly, of course. Let’s not wake Wooyoung up.

San started with his desk. Then he thought it would be easier to start with the floor. Then, again, he decided to go for the desk first. After a while, one was able to write on it again. And then he started to sort the pictures that had fallen out of his photo album. Of course these beautiful pictures of him didn’t deserve to be treated like that, San knew that it was all his fault, but he’d lost control over himself. Wooyoung, don’t be scared. That didn’t happen too often, only sometimes. And San would never hurt you, he’d never hurt you on purpose. But San liked to sort the photos he took after categories. Mostly after the date but sometimes he also liked to be a bit more specific. He, for example, had albums only with pictures of Wooyoung smiling. He also had a summer album. But mostly the date, yes. Chronologically. San wondered if Wooyoung would still let him take pictures of him. He had bought a new album only recently because the one he was currently using was almost full. Yes, he’d ask Wooyoung. Wooyoung liked having photos taken of him. Maybe they could fill this one together. It would be their own, personal album. The San and Wooyoung album. Would Wooyoung like to have San in some pictures, too? If not, that was okay. San didn’t have to be in the pictures. But if Wooyoung wanted that, sure, why not. Whatever he wanted. 

It wasn’t easy for San to read Wooyoung. He’d also never really cared for or looked after someone besides his mother, so he didn’t know whether he was doing a good job. He knew that this was very new for Wooyoung, too, and he tried to make it as comfortable as possible for him. But it wasn’t easy. San was going through a weird phase, too. He was completely shocked that one day when Wooyoung begged him to take him home. This was something he’d never thought of happening. If he was honest with you, he initially thought it was a trap. That’s why he hesitated to take him home (of course he felt bad now, thinking that Wooyoung would try something so horrible). But you know, why would someone ever go with their stalker? Did... did Wooyoung maybe like San? San’s cheeks blushed. Did he like him? Ah, he didn’t know. That also wasn’t the point. Of course San loved the fact that Wooyoung lived with him, this was all he ever wished for secretly, but if Wooyoung hadn’t begged him... he’d never taken him home. At least he’d never thought of doing that. Why? He knew that Wooyoung wouldn’t have liked that. But it seemed like San was wrong. Like he was with lots of things. Damn, San was a mess. San didn’t know what he was doing. Sure, he was trying to provide Wooyoung with the best things only, he did everything he could, but San was confused. He was so confused, his head looked like a television screen without signal. No clear picture, just noise. But hey, when did his head not look like that?

San didn’t manage to clean up the whole room before he had to prepare lunch and leave for work. He wished he could’ve stayed at home, just like Yoojin. But he couldn’t do that. Still he would ask for some time off. 

This, however, would have to wait. When he arrived at the office, no one was there. He’d expected his friend, ah, no, his  _ boss _ to be there, but he wasn’t. All he found was a little sticky note on his computer display.

‘_Sorry I’m not in and didn’t give u a heads up. Was urgent. Think I’m on a freaking great story. TTYL. _

_ Boss _

_ PS. Hope ur here on time (you’ve been late the last 3 times, it’s really freaking annoying, get your act together, San). _

_ PPS. Love u~’ _

The last sentence was squeezed into the last corner of the paper, making it hard to read. Maybe something completely different was written on there, San wasn’t quite sure. But he was sad he was alone. Maybe he also wasn’t. Maybe it didn’t bother him. But now it really felt like he didn’t have any friends. Was Yoojin right? Did he have no friends? Was his boss only his boss and not his friend? But they’d hung out from time to time. Actually, they’d hung out a lot. They were friends! Yoojin was so mean. Did Yoojin imply that he also was no friend of his? So did San really have no friends? Well, he had Wooyoung, that was enough! But Wooyoung was more than a friend. But what was San to Wooyoung? A stranger? Someone he shared an apartment with? Someone he slept in the same room with? Was he even anything to Wooyoung? Or was he nothing to him? Maybe he was nothing. San was nothing. Nothing was San. San giggled.

_Oh_. Work.

San noticed that he was still standing slightly hunched in front of his computer, doing absolutely nothing but drifting away in his thoughts. He’d already forgotten what he had thought about. Probably about Wooyoung. He smiled. Yeah, he liked thinking about Wooyoung. Wooyoung was nice to think about. There were so many things one could think about when it came to Wooyoung.

_ No, San. Work! _

He finally sat down and turned his computer on. It took ages, it wasn’t the newest model anymore. It was fairly old. But his boss didn’t bother buying a new one. His motto was: _If it works, it works_. San thought this was genius but it also didn’t make sense. But then, if you really thought about it, it kind of made sense. Every single time San thought about this motto he’d get a headache. Let’s think about Wooyoung again, then his headache would go away. _No, for God’s sake, San. You had to work_.

San was happy to have his work, even though it was fairly plain and boring. He’d always have to do the same stuff. Take the photos his boss took, slap them onto photoshop, make them better and ready to use, update his website and so on. It was fun, sometimes, but still kind of boring. He’d have to run errands when his boss needed something, he’d make coffee or get lunch. Actually, he felt more like an intern than an employee, but whatever. He was getting money, pretty decent money for the things he was doing while he didn’t even have a qualification for it. That’s why he was so happy to have his job, because his boss didn’t have to employ him, because his boss helped him so much, because he could actually call his boss his friend. He didn’t know when his boss would come in that day, or if he’d even show up, but he gave his best, just as San always did. One time, when San was alone at work, he’d taken a photo of Wooyoung and put it onto photoshop. San had really thought he could enhance anything but he quickly realized that no matter what photo he’d take, they already were perfect. Nothing had to be altered. Okay, maybe the lighting, but that wasn’t Wooyoung’s fault. That was San’s incapability alone. He wished he was skilled enough to let Wooyoung shine in the light he deserved. Ah, sometimes he really hated himself for that. Why wasn’t he able to do that??

San should get something to eat. Ah, no. He’d just eaten, hadn’t he? His eyes searched for a clock. Oh. He could go? He’d been so much into his work (his boss had left a shit ton of workload for him) that he completely forgot the time. And he’d also forgotten to take a break. But it was fine. Like that, he could at least make up for being late all the time. He knew that was wrong and he knew that this kind of behavior could eventually get him fired, but he didn’t want to leave before he made Wooyoung something to eat. That was more important. Wooyoung was top priority. Ah, let’s go. Let’s go home.

San turned off his computer and locked the door behind him after he’d left the office. His boss hadn’t come back yet, maybe this story he was following really was something special. Maybe it would be his break through. San hoped for it, his boss really deserved a little bit attention. And also more money. He was working so hard every day, it was only fair. When San left the little office building, he noticed that it wasn’t yet completely dark outside, but almost. San really hated that, he wanted to spend more time with Wooyoung but whenever he’d come home, it was already pretty late. He wished his boss had been there today so he could’ve asked for some time off. But with this new story going on, San really doubted that he’d be granted his wish. He could’ve texted him, but asking a favor like this should be in person, right? He sighed. He wanted to enjoy the time with Wooyoung. He wanted—

He didn’t know what it was, but something had told him to look up. Something similar to a magnet steered his eyes to a lamppost. Was he... was he imagining things? It wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe his eyes were tricking him. Maybe this wasn’t real. San looked at his fingers and started counting them. No... ten fingers. His hands looked normal. This was no dream. But still, he could be hallucinating? Ah, his heart was pounding as he stepped closer to the lamppost. No, this couldn’t be. It was getting dark, this could be anyone. He couldn’t quite make out who that was on the poster.

But then, right in that moment, the street lights turned on and a picture San just happened to be so familiar with stared right back at him, as if it was alive. Ah, who was playing the drums at this time of the day? San began hitting his ears, not realizing that these drums echoing in his ear was his heart that felt like it was going to explode inside of him any second. He felt pressure on his head, as if he was under water. Everything he heard was dull and drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat. His eyes still didn’t move away from the poster, he couldn’t even blink, even though he really, really wanted to.

_ Wooyoung...? Why... why was your pretty face printed on a missing person poster? _

You haven’t gone missing. You were safe and with San! At his home, enjoying delicious lemon raspberry cake. You were all good! Why were people looking for you? Why...? 

Without thinking, San’s hands grabbed the poster. He wanted to take if off carefully, but he had no control over his trembling hands, hence ripping it off fairly carelessly. His eyes ran over the paper again.

_ MISSING _

_ Name: Jung Wooyoung (male, 18). Height: 170cm. _

That wasn’t true. He was taller. At least get your facts straight. 

_ Date of disappearance: Monday, 16 November 2019. _

And a telephone number. Whose number was that? Parents? Probably. Yes, probably. But Wooyoung? Wooyoung, hey. Sure, they didn’t know where you were, you didn’t tell them, that was your plan, sure, San knew that. You wanted revenge, completely understandable, San would want that too if he were you but... why? Why did they think you’d gone missing? You were perfectly fine! They— they didn’t even get your height correct?! You’re 172cm. San knew that, San was almost the same height, but he was a little taller. Just a little. But the picture? His wonderful school picture, oh, why’d someone put this precious picture onto something so disgusting? This was derogatory towards Wooyoung, it made San furious.

Ahh, San wanted to cry. Or scream? Laugh? Because they didn’t know where you were? No, no. That would be so mean, let’s not laugh. In fact, San was panicking. Seeing this poster meant that they were looking for him. Seeing this poster meant that they had contacted the police. Seeing the poster meant that San was... San was a culprit? What if they found him? What would happen to San? San would be alone again, all alone. Maybe they’d take him with them? But he didn’t want to go. Sure, his apartment was rather small and not pretty at all, it was cold and uncomfortable but he liked it. He really liked it. He actually liked it. And he liked it even more with Wooyoung in it. Don’t take him away. Why were people always trying to take things away from him? Why were they always snatching away the people he loved? This was so unfair. Why didn’t they let San be happy for once?

He kept inhaling. What was exhaling? San didn’t know exhaling. Why would someone exhale? You needed air to survive, why exhale it then? He was holding his breath, he couldn’t inhale anymore. He _had_ to exhale. Was he going to die then? Who would care for Wooyoung? He’d rot in the apartment where it’s cold and dark, waiting for San to come home but he’d never come. Thank God he had bought another blanket. Thank God he’d bought some cake. Oh, he should’ve bought more. _San, you fucking idiot. You never did things right! Never ever. It’s just right they want to take him away from you. _

Then he finally exhaled, put his hands on his shaky knees and closed his eyes. _No. San, relax. Just relax. Hey, it’s fine. It’s going to be okay, yes? Think about what Wooyoung said: He had nowhere to go. He didn’t want to leave. You didn’t have to worry about him leaving, okay?_ San nodded to himself. He didn’t have to worry. Nothing would lead the police to San, he’d never left any evidence, had he? And even if, San had done nothing wrong. Wooyoung wanted to be there, San was just a friend who cared for him. San was the good guy in this! The bad guys were all the other people who’d failed him! His parents, his... his teachers and friends. Everyone else. San was safe. Wooyoung was safer. All was good. Again, San reassured himself by nodding and telling him it was fine. On his way home he’d constantly repeat this sentence. _It was fine, all good. Don’t worry. Wooyoung liked being with you. _

And then he’d come home. The first thing he saw was Wooyoung. Oh, Wooyoung. You didn’t even know how much San cared for you. You couldn’t know, sweetheart! No one was blaming you. No one had ever loved you as much as San has. San would show you. San would treat you like the special person you were!

‘San.’ Wooyoung said as he noticed him standing in the door. ‘Thanks for the cake.’

San couldn’t answer to that, no, but he’d finally closed the door. He didn’t even take off his shoes but rather stumbled towards Wooyoung who already seemed a bit confused and stood up from the floor.

‘I uhm.’ San scrunched his nose. ‘This.’

He held up the poster, it was fairly crinkled, the corners where the tape used be were ripped of. Sorry, Wooyoung. He didn’t mean to do that. 

Wooyoung looked at him for a second, then he took the paper and observed it. San couldn’t read Wooyoung’s thoughts, he didn’t know what his expression should signify. Was he angry? Sad? He couldn’t be happy. Right? San was bad at reading people, at interpreting emotions, but you knew that already.

‘Do you... do you like that they’re looking for you?’

Wooyoung looked up for a second, then his eyes went back to the poster. 

‘Well, I like that they’ve finally realized that this is no joke and that I’m gone for real.’

‘Do you... want them to find you?’

San’s eyes stuck to Wooyoung’s face. He opened his mouth to answer, but then their eyes met for a second. Wooyoung closed his mouth again. He was thinking. Then he slowly shook his head.

‘No. No, San. I don’t want to leave. I told you that already.’ He’d looked away and observed the poster again.

Yeah, right. You told him. You told him you didn’t want to leave.

Then why were you smiling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	9. Maraschino Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right on time for the comeback.  
I hope y’all are still alive cause I sure am not.  
I’m freaking in love with the new damn songs. And a full version for Precious? Am I in heaven yet?
> 
> For the remaining Atiny, for those who’re still alive, have lots of fun with the chapter haha.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions suicide.

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 8, Maraschino Cherry**

**제 8 장 , 마라스키노 체리**

Okay, dear reader. Maybe Wooyoung hadn’t been so honest with you. Neither had he with San. In fact, Wooyoung had maybe even lied a little to himself. This was nothing new, was it? Don’t be sad, Wooyoung was a good liar, so it was very likely for you not to notice. But it would be easier to tell you what was really going on inside Wooyoung‘s little head while he was holding the missing person poster in both of his slightly shaking hands. 

Of course he’d told San that he’d stay with him, that he wouldn’t want to go. That he didn’t want to be found. Well... that was partly true. Wooyoung really didn’t want to be found. _Yet_. But he also didn’t plan on staying with San forever. I mean, what were you thinking? That Wooyoung and San would live happily ever after? Come on, this was no novel. Wooyoung didn’t want to throw his whole life away just like that. He had plans. He wanted to see the world. He wanted to be seen. So his plan looked like this: Get “kidnapped”. Get people to notice you’re gone. Make them worry about you and make them regret how they’ve treated you and then, well, come home. Or get found. Whatever. Sounded good, right? So far it was going well, at least. People had noticed that he was gone and wow, look at that, they’ve made posters with Wooyoung’s pretty face on them. How many of them were distributed in the streets? How many people were looking at him while passing by these photos, thinking: oh, this poor, young, handsome man. What a pity. Yes, Wooyoung liked that. Wooyoung really liked this thought. It fulfilled him. It was exactly what he needed, what gave him energy and what ensured him that what he was doing was worth it. One could really say that Wooyoung was a happy man. He was pretty satisfied with how things were going. Before he came here, he expected to live like a bum, and even though he didn’t have much here, spent his days sleeping, eating and staring out of the window doing literally nothing, it was a lot better than what he’d expected. He was cared for, given food and even his favorite cake. He literally had like twenty blankets to keep him warm. It was fine. And the best thing about this was, indeed, San. Because San was who made this all bearable. He was the one caring for Wooyoung and, this was no lie, Wooyoung was grateful for that. He appreciated it. He didn’t lock him somewhere. He didn’t touch nor hurt him. He didn’t starve him. San wasn’t the most normal person to be around with, he was pretty messed up, Wooyoung could see that in his eyes, but hey. It could be worse, it really could.

However, Wooyoung sure as hell couldn’t tell San about his intentions. San was already panicking over these little posters and, by no means, Wooyoung didn’t let him in on his plan because he thought it could hurt San’s feelings, no. He was afraid San would get angry at him. Or maybe really trap him in his apartment. Because if Wooyoung really wanted to, he could just walk out of the door as if nothing happened. And he was planning on doing exactly this when he was happy enough and when he was done getting revenge. He had a feeling this was going to happen quite soon, so why destroy San’s little fantasy of being best buddies or whatever he was fantasizing about in his little, messed up head. But Wooyoung forgot to think about what would happen to San if they found him. Well, let’s hope he just forgot and not that he actually didn’t care. But we knew the answer to that question already, didn’t we? How sad. Poor San. 

‘Wanna keep this as memory?’ Wooyoung held the poster up. He could literally feel this threatened aura that emerged from San and he didn’t want to be in this kind of atmosphere. He was playing the clown again. Whatever. ‘I bet you don’t have this photo in your collection yet.’

San glanced at the picture, then he glanced at Wooyoung.

‘I do, actually. It’s your most recent student ID photo. It was taken around three weeks ago, right? Or more? Four?’

Ah, Wooyoung should’ve known. He wanted to be surprised, but honestly? He wasn’t.

‘How the hell did you get one of these photos?’

San shrugged. ‘It’s really not that hard, actually.’

Yeah, of course. Of course he’d say that. But you know what? No. Wooyoung wouldn’t complain. Because for the first time, San wasn’t afraid to speak it out and for some reason, it creeped Wooyoung less out than when he was all secretive and mysterious about what he knew about Wooyoung. So it was fine. Wooyoung was okay. And he was happy to see San being so dedicated about getting pictures from Wooyoung. He’d never seen someone be like this, especially not towards himself. And there were lots of people who admired Wooyoung, you couldn’t even imagine how many roses and chocolate he was given on Valentine’s Day, even though he wasn’t in a relationship with any of those ‘secret admirers’. He wondered whether he’d ever received gifts from San without knowing. Maybe Wooyoung had eaten chocolate that his stalker had bought for him? Maybe he’d read his love confession written on scented paper? It wasn’t so much out of the world, you know? Wooyoung had once received polaroids from him, hadn’t he?

San had actually calmed down a lot after Wooyoung had told him how he felt. This threatened aura had vanished and the little awkward person that San was was left. Wooyoung was happy about that. San had disappeared into the kitchen for some time whereas Wooyoung prepared himself to go to bed. Even though he spent his time doing practically nothing, he was exhausted. From what, he didn’t know. Maybe it was emotional exhaust. Oh, my God? You know what? Wooyoung should write a book when he comes home. His story would be a freaking bestseller. ‘Kidnapped. When a lie becomes truth.’ Damn, that was a nice title. He’d write about how no one believed him, how they blamed him. He’d write about how broken he was with no one believing him. How weeks without any sleep passed inside the stalker’s home out of fear he’d harm Wooyoung. Would that be too mean? It was the truth, you know? Wooyoung had actually felt like that and you knew it. He’d felt these emotions so it wouldn’t be a lie. That San never really had the intention to harm Wooyoung... how was he supposed to know that, right? Ah, but then Wooyoung remembered that he hated writing essays. And writing a whole ass book were hundreds of essays combined. Yeah, no. Scrap that. First things first. First his plan has to work out and then he could hire a ghostwriter or something. 

Shortly after Wooyoung had lied down, covered in three blankets, San came back into the room as well. Wooyoung watched him switching off the lights and taking out his bedding with the thin blanket. San had wished him a good night after he’d lied down and then turned his back to Wooyoung. Wooyoung just stared at him. And for the first time something actually bothered him. He was hesitant to say something, it took him a couple of minutes before he’d allocated all his courage. This was a big deal for Wooyoung, okay? Maybe San had also already fallen asleep.

‘San.’ It took a couple of seconds until said person turned around again, looking Wooyoung straight in the eye, despite the fact that it was already pretty dark. ‘Why don’t you come over here?’

San was still staring at him and Wooyoung was already starting to regret what he’d said. Why was he doing that? Was he feeling empathy for San because he was so worked up about the posters? But why did Wooyoung care? If you haven’t forgotten it yet—Wooyoung only ever cared about himself. He’d almost given up, believing that San wasn’t going to lie down next to him, so he wanted to close his eyes, but to his surprise, San stood up and actually came over to him. He put his beddings right next to Wooyoung’s, even though there wasn’t much of it.

‘Are you really sure?’

Cute. Wooyoung nodded. ‘I’m fine.’

San really made sure not to get too close to Wooyoung. It wasn’t quite clear if it was because he didn’t want to lose his control next to such a wonderful human being as Wooyoung or because he believed that Wooyoung would get scared. Whatever it was, Wooyoung was fine with it. In fact, Wooyoung even shared his blankets with San.

‘I’m not cold.’ San said. ‘Keep them.’

But Wooyoung refused. Maybe San said he wasn’t cold but if Wooyoung’s hands were still cold even under three thick blankets Wooyoung just knew better. So he insisted on it. And San, being the obedient, Wooyoung-obsessed person he was, gave in. And there they were, lying next to each other, not even half a meter apart, under the same blankets. Wooyoung was actually astonished. He couldn’t quite grasp the fact that not too long ago, Wooyoung was terrified of this man. Wooyoung couldn’t sleep or leave the house because he was so horrified and now? Look at him now. He was right next to him, so close to his stalker that he could almost feel his breath on his nose. Wooyoung was crazy. He sure was. This was probably the first time he realized how far he was willing to go to get attention. How dumb he was. But he also realized how he wasn’t really afraid of San anymore. Of course, he didn’t know him well. San could lose his temper any time. Maybe he was a ticking time bomb. But maybe he also wasn’t, you know? San wouldn’t touch him without consent, let alone hurt him. San wasn’t like that. And even though Wooyoung really didn’t know him, something told him that. Somehow he was sure of it. He didn’t see San as a friend, no. But he also didn’t dislike him. He was just there and Wooyoung accepted it. He didn’t care too much about him, but he also didn’t wish him bad. He hoped he was okay, somehow. And even though from the outside, San really seemed like any other person, Wooyoung knew that his mind was messed up. Not in a ‘I-murder-people-and-eat-them-afterwards’ kinda way but in an ‘I’ve-been-through-some-awful-shit’ kinda way. So it was no wonder San was a bit weird.

‘It’s your birthday soon.’

Huh? Wooyoung glanced over to San who was resting on his back, the same as Wooyoung. But he was right. It was his birthday soon. He’d completely forgotten about that.

‘What day is it today?’ Wooyoung asked. He really didn’t know. It’s also been some time since he’d last got to look at a phone or something.

‘Monday the 23rd. Your birthday is on Thursday. You’ll be 19. That’s a good age.’

Wooyoung smiled. It really was. And honestly? He was so happy he wouldn’t be home on that day. After Wooyoung got older, his birthday was like any other day anyway. When he was a child his parents used to throw him these unnecessarily big birthday parties with hundreds of guests, but for the past couple of years, all they did was leave him a bundle of money and a birthday cake (which always tasted like nothing) next to it while they weren’t even home. But maybe this year it would be something special.

‘Do you want something specific?’

Wooyoung turned his body to San. He was thinking.

‘Hm, not really. Maybe a good cake and, I don’t know, some alcohol.’ Wooyoung shrugged and looked at San. ‘Do you drink?’

‘I like beer sometimes.’

  
Wooyoung nodded. ‘Then let’s get some beer.’

He looked at San and smiled. And when San turned his head to Wooyoung, he actually smiled back. And somehow Wooyoung was looking forward to his birthday. They would sit here with a good cake, good food that San made, beer and weird conversations. He wouldn’t be alone, that was everything he wanted.

For a while, the room fell silent again. None of them spoke but it seemed as though they also didn’t want to sleep just yet. Wooyoung was facing San, he kept having to glance at his freaking haircut, and San seemed to look out of the window. He hadn’t drawn the curtains this time, so the room was getting a bit light from the street lights outside. It looked nice. Then, however, San was the first one to speak again. It actually surprised Wooyoung that he spoke that much and that he was the one starting the conversations, but he liked it. That was exactly what he’d told him to do. 

‘Don’t you miss your family? Or friends?’

‘Nah.’ Wooyoung said, slightly shaking his head. ‘It’s not like I’ve seen much of my parents before, you know? And friends, well, I don’t have any. It’s fine.’

San just nodded and Wooyoung nodded, too. Then something suddenly came to his mind. He knew that San wasn’t much older than Wooyoung himself, so how come he was living alone? What about his parents? He remembered the day he was going through San’s diaries and he remembered the letter hanging on his wall. The one apparently written by his mother.

‘I saw the letter on your wall in the other room. It’s from your mother, right?’ San nodded again. ‘Where is she?’

San still didn’t look away from the window as he answered. ‘She’s dead. It’s her suicide note.’

The noise you just heard, dear readers, was Wooyoung’s heart sinking and then being ripped out of his chest and thrown to the ground. His eyes widened in shock but for some reason he couldn’t see a single thing. _Excuse- Excuse me? Pardon? Your mum’s what? A what?_ Wooyoung wanted to punch himself in the face for asking something like that, for being so rude, for not knowing better, for making horrible memories reappear in San’s head. Wooyoung couldn’t help but first think about how sick you had to be to stick your own mother’s suicide note on your wall, but then again, what if it was the only thing he’d left from her? What if this was the only thing San had that reminded him of her? What if it was the words written in it, telling him that she loved him and that she was sorry that he read every day so he could hear her voice again, even if it was only in his head? What if through this letter, San was actually trying not to forget her?

‘San...’ Wooyoung looked at him still in shock. See? Wooyoung was right. San was no cold blooded murderer. San was a broken soul. He had no one. Maybe that was why he subconsciously looked for someone he could make his whole life about. Maybe Wooyoung was some kind of distraction for him, making him forget all the bad things while he was busy taking photos of him. Maybe that was why San was so anxious about losing him. About saying something wrong, something that could drive Wooyoung away from him. 

Wooyoung couldn’t express this feeling he had during that moment. He’d never felt like that before. Maybe it was a mixture of empathy and sorrow. Suddenly, he was seeing everything so clear like never before. Suddenly, everything felt so real and intense. When he looked at San, he could actually see how empty and lifeless his eyes were. But when San turned his head to him, and when his eyes met those of Wooyoung, there was this sparkle. A sparkle Wooyoung had put in there. And it made him proud.

‘I’m here.’ Wooyoung said. At this point, San had turned his body towards Wooyoung.

‘You’re here.’ San whispered. He was still smiling. How was he still smiling?

Wooyoung didn’t think much this time, but his left hand crawled from underneath the pillow in direction of San’s body. His heart was pounding, but he couldn’t stop, almost as if he didn’t have control over his own actions. And then he found what he was looking for. San’s cold hand. One by one, Wooyoung’s fingers traced over his soft skin, eventually fully embracing his hand. Wooyoung’s heart was pounding, San’s heart was probably at the brink of exploding. What they didn’t know, was, that both of them were holding their breaths for an amount of time that felt so endless yet none of them were bothered by that.

Wooyoung felt like crying. He felt like crying and smiling. He was thinking how he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep now because so many things were going through his head, too many things to process. But he still said good night to San. San just nodded. And then Wooyoung closed his eyes, still clutching onto San’s hand, not letting it go even after he’d fallen asleep. And he’d fallen asleep in an instant. And San? San just closed his eyes, not staring at Wooyoung for half an hour like he did every day, but he slept. He slept so calmly, he’d never slept like this before.

But Wooyoung didn’t know what would happen to this beautiful sparkle in San’s eyes when he would go home some day. Without San.

*

They were standing outside the school building to the left, waiting for the two boys to come out. After a while, a familiar face walked out of the entrance door and straight to them, wishing them a good morning.

‘Your friend?’

‘He’s coming.’ A quick glance to the entrance. ‘I saw the posters. So it really is something serious?’

Yunho examined Yeosang’s face. He looked exhausted. There were dark circles painted around his eyes, his hair was kind of messy and not neatly combed like the last time. Maybe he was having a bad day, maybe he was a bit sick. It was winter after all. Maybe he hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. Maybe he was also worrying about his friend.

‘We don’t know for sure yet. You haven’t heard from him since?’

He only answered with a little head shake.

‘Yeosang.’ Yunho took over the conversation. ‘Do you happen to own a Polaroid camera?’

You could see that he was a bit taken aback by this question. Even if it wasn’t an abnormal question to ask, it did seem a bit out of the place in that situation. But again, he shook his head.

‘I don’t. But Mingi does, actually. He really likes taking photos, he’s honestly good at it. But why?’

Before Yunho could explain, all three of their heads turned to the entrance door where a tall man appeared, steering in their direction. That was him. The friend who disclosed the secret, who exposed Wooyoung. Yunho genuinely wanted to know how he was feeling. He was a handsome man. About Yunho’s height, well built. Pretty face. And when he bowed and greeted them, Yunho also detected a bold voice.

‘Good morning. This is Detective Jeong, and I’m Detective Park. Sorry for the inconvenience but it’s only a few questions.’

Mingi just nodded and glanced at Yunho for a while before he looked at Yeosang. So he owned a Polaroid camera, huh? But before Yeosang could ask what was wrong with the Polaroid camera, Seonghwa began speaking again.

‘You used to hang out with Wooyoung, too, right?’

Mingi nodded. ‘Sometimes, yeah. But he didn’t really like me.’

‘Did he say that?’

‘No, not really.’ Mingi nonchalantly shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘But he made me feel it.’

Okay, so Wooyoung didn’t like him. But did that change anything about the situation? Probably not. Yunho looked over to Seonghwa who just happened to take out the pictures and the notes they had found in Wooyoung’s room. When they let the students observe them, Yunho felt a quick, piercing glance from Yeosang on his face before he examined the evidence again.

‘I recognize this one.’ Yeosang then said, pointing at one of the notes, the one Yunho had found near one of the dumpsters at school. Mingi also confirmed that he knew it. ‘Wooyoung had shown this one to us. But it was nothing, he said it was probably a love letter from a girl or something.’

‘I‘ve seen the other one before, too.’ Mingi said, glancing at Yunho. ‘One day, after it was revealed that Wooyoung had lied, he came up to me, claiming I took the photos and wrote this note. He was completely out of his mind.’

‘But you didn’t do it?’

Mingi moaned. ‘Of course I didn’t. It was Wooyoung, still clutching onto his fake story. It was pathetic, it actually made me feel sorry for him.’

But the point was, it wasn’t Wooyoung. It wasn’t his handwriting. Okay, sure, he‘d probably alter his handwriting when writing a letter from an alleged stalker, but then again, why hadn’t he lied about the other note as well? Or was it part of the plan? But it didn’t make sense. When the first note really wasn’t from Wooyoung, then neither were the pictures and the other note. Yunho didn’t say anything on that subject, Seonghwa just took back the evidence.

‘Do you really think there’s no possibility of this stalker being real?’, Seonghwa asked. Mingi nodded straight away, but Yeosang somehow didn’t say anything, nor did he move. So he was doubting himself.

‘I’m telling you, you’re probably wasting your time searching for him. He’s probably with someone, safe and sound, in a nice villa, laughing at us. By conducting this search you’re giving him exactly what he wants. Once he sees no one cares, he’ll come back.’

Mingi then asked if there were any other questions, and even before they could say something, he’d already said goodbye and went through the entrance door again.

‘I’ve never seen him like this.’

Yunho’s eyes glanced at Yeosang who kept staring at something that actually wasn’t there.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Mingi. He’s the most cheerful person I know. He only rarely gets this angry or annoyed.’

Yunho shrugged. ‘Maybe he’s mad because he thinks we were all blinded by Wooyoung, still believing his lie.’

But Yeosang shook his head, slowly and absentmindedly. ‘No. He’s acting like that because he realized he may have made a mistake. It’s him trying to deal with his conscience.’

Yeosang sounded as if he was actually talking to himself and not to a real person in front of him. Then he finally looked up and said goodbye. ‘Please keep me in contact. And... don’t stop looking for him, please. I’d rather give Wooyoung all the attention he wants, even if that means he’d come back as the same lying brat he was. It’s still better than, you know, something else.’

And then he disappeared as well, leaving Yunho behind with mixed feelings.

‘I’m not sure what to think about this Mingi guy.’ Yunho proceeded to say as they turned around to return to their car.

‘Why? Do you suspect him?’

Did he suspect him? He didn’t know. He was acting strange, but if Yeosang was right, it was really just him dealing with the fact that he’d thought Wooyoung was lying when he actually wasn’t. He wasn’t sure. 

‘I don’t know. I mean, it wouldn’t make sense. But then again if you think about it—‘

Yunho was cut off by Seonghwa screaming at a man. Excuse me?

‘Hey! You, over there!’ Seonghwa shouted. ‘The hell do you think you’re doing?’

Yunho’s eyes followed those of Seonghwa. And then he finally understood why he was shouting. A couple meters in front of them, there was a man. His hair looked like a freaking maraschino cherry. And he was holding a massive, expensive looking camera in both of his hands, taking pictures of the school. He only stopped when Seonghwa appeared in front of his lens. But well...

‘Oh! Police, I suggest. Perfect. Can you stand up a bit straighter? Try and look prestigious. I’d love a facial expression that expresses courage, dedication but also seriousness. Can ya handle that, officer?’

Yunho thought, no, wait, actually he wasn’t sure what he was thinking. What the hell was happening?! And oh, my, God. He could literally see Seonghwa’s rage built up like a video game character preparing for his ultimate attack. This was not good.

Seonghwa quickly held his hand to the lens, hence blocking this readhead’s view. Said person quickly backed up, caressing his camera.

‘Young man, never touch a photographer’s lens! My, my. Do you even know the basics?’

‘I don’t care but what the _hell_ are you doing here? And who are you?’

The cherry head put on a shocked face. ‘Oh, dear. I’m so rude. I guess I don’t know the basics myself, haha. I beg your pardon, pal. My name is Kim HongJoong. Freelance photographer and journalist.’

This dude smiled so brightly, Yunho could literally count every single one of his damn teeth. His shiny, pretty, damn fucking teeth. 

‘Excuse me, are you a professional?’

Finally he acknowledged Yunho and he started nodding excessively.

‘A professional indeed! Here—‘ He shoved his hand into his pocked, taking out a little card and holding it right into Yunho’s face. ‘My business card. Everything you need to know—on there.’

Yunho took it. The color of the font as red as his own hair. Was that his image or something? Honestly, Yunho was kinda pissed. Seonghwa wasn’t kinda pissed, he looked _very_ pissed. But, well, the business card did look professional. And kinda cool. Simple, but cool. 

‘And can you tell me why the hell you were taking pictures of the school?’

  
Seonghwa tried really hard not to lose his temper. Yunho figured Seonghwa couldn’t stand lively people. 

‘Oh, for the same reason as you two are here.’

Pardon? Yunho tilted his head in confusion.

‘I’m here to tell the story about the lost boy. Tragic, right? Such a handsome man. Vanished into thin air.’ He paused for a second, his facial expression worried and empathetic. Then his bright smile reappeared on his face. ‘Well, gotta go. Gotta do some work. Keep up the good work, you two! If ya need something, my contacts are right on that fancy business card.’

And he waved, completely ignoring Seonghwa who was throwing words at him, slowly but surely losing his temper, and then he disappeared inside the school building.

‘Is... is this allowed?’

Seonghwa was breathing so heavily, Yunho could literally hear—no, _feel_ it. ‘Yes. Sadly it is.’

Oh, _Jesus_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	10. Uninvited Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello!!  
Welcome back you guys!! Thanks a lot for your support, I’m always bawling my eyes out reading your feedback.  
Have fun with this new chapter, so long as everything’s calm and relaxed ^^
> 
> No trigger warning ♥ 
> 
> (Credits to the owner of the picture!)

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 9, Uninvited Guests**

**제 9 장 , 불청객**

San walked up the stairs that would lead him to his apartment. He was on his way home from buying groceries again. He’d gotten canned beer and sweets for Wooyoung’s birthday. Honestly, there had been a smile printed on his face from the moment he’d woken up today. He’d woken up next to Wooyoung, not lying across the room right in the opposite corner, no, but when he’d opened his eyes that morning he’d seen him right in front of his face. San had never watched him sleep from that distance, simply because there had almost been no distance between them. Just a few centimeters. He could feel the warm air Wooyoung exhaled from his nostrils on his hand, his hand that was cupped by Wooyoung’s hands. Warm hands. Soft hands. Hands he’d always wanted to hold. And after weeks, months of sleepless and exhausting nights, he’d for the first time slept like a baby again. Calm and unbothered as if the world had stopped spinning. Maybe it had. Maybe San was caught in a dream, caught in an alternative universe where Wooyoung actually liked him. Reciprocated his feelings. Cared for him. _Loved_ him. Thinking that far maybe was still a dream, yes, it sure was, but for San it almost felt as though Wooyoung cared for him or loved him. At least his mother had told him that you held the hands of the people you loved. He’d always held hands with his mother, and his mother with him. He’d never held the hands of his father. And his father never tried to take his. But instead Wooyoung took them. Wooyoung had taken San’s cold and lonely hands that hadn’t been held by another person he loved for years since the day his mother died, since the day he said goodbye to his mother. So there must’ve been some feelings slumbering inside of Wooyoung when he decided to take San’s hands. He must’ve felt something. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was something.

San was excited for Wooyoung’s birthday. Even though he said all he wanted was some beer and good food, nothing else, San had bought him pretty clothes. Warm clothes, in particular. Winter was coming, they expected snow to fall from the pretty sky in a few days already. It was cold and Wooyoung mustn’t freeze. San liked the clothes. When he went out to buy them, he looked at the clothes  asking himself whether Wooyoung would pick them as well. Whether they corresponded to his taste or not. And he really believed Wooyoung was going to like them. And even if he didn’t, maybe he was happy to have something warm and something different from the clothes he’d usually wear. Yes, San was really looking forward to Thursday.

He stopped on the second last stair. He wondered whether Wooyoung would let him sleep next to him tonight as well? If he was going to hold his hand again? If not, should San ask? _Ah, no, no. San, you can’t ask him. You can’t force him. Maybe it makes him feel uncomfortable, hm? Have you ever thought about that? No, right? Damnit, San._ San shook his head, resulting is his hair to fall into his face and blocking his view. Actually, he had thought about that. He was always asking himself whether Wooyoung was uncomfortable or not. If he was alright. That was honestly the only thing San ever thought about. Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung. He growled at his own thoughts. _Don’t make me believe I don’t think enough about Wooyoung!_ He got annoyed with himself. 

But what if he still wasn’t thinking enough about him? 

_ Oh, shit, San. How could you think you were ever thinking enough about him? Gosh, you’re so selfish, give me a freaking break. _

‘For God’s sake, for how long are you gonna stand there, San?’

Damn, these voices had become so real. San really felt as though he was hearing an actual person talking to him. He looked up. _Oh_. There was an actual person talking to him. A person standing right in front of his apartment door, a person he knew, a person he’d just recently described as red chili paste. It was Hongjoong, casually waiting for San in front of his apartment. 

_ Oh my God Hongjoong was waiting for San in front of his apartment where Wooyoung was inside, hiding from the outside world. Wooyoung, a missing person. Wooyoung, whose face was printed on hundreds of freaking posters spread all over Seoul. _

San hastily ran up to Hongjoong, almost tripping—twice.

‘Ay, young blood. Careful.’ Hongjoong said a bit worriedly while still grinning like a delusional.

‘Hyung.’ San pressed his lips together to stop them from trembling. ‘What...’

‘What I’m doing here? Thought I’d stop by to say hello. Was in the neighborhood. Open up, buddy. I’m freaking cold.’

‘Well, hello. I see you later.’

San proceeded to carefully push Hongjoong aside, signalizing him to get the hell away from here. Then he looked for his keys, which was really hard when you were trying not to freak out.

‘Hey.’ He pouted. ‘That ain’t how you treat your hyung. Let me in, give me a tea or something. I gotta tell you about work.’

_No, Hongjoong, you cannot come in. Because, I repeat, inside the apartment, there is a missing person that you mustn’t see!_ This was not just because _San_ didn’t want him to see Wooyoung, but also because he had to protect Wooyoung. If Hongjoong found him, Wooyoung would be so disappointed, right? So what the hell was San supposed to do? Push Hongjoong? Tell him the truth? Run away? No, no. He couldn’t do any of those. What was he supposed to do? He mustn’t let him in, this wasn’t even an option worth thinking about, but at the same time he also had to try to seem normal. He mustn’t raise suspicion. Ah, come on, why would Hongjoong suspect him of anything! Hongjoong loved San, he’d written that on this little note. And if people loved someone, they wouldn’t suspect them, right? Right? So what was he supposed to do?

‘San? Are you spacing out again?’

San’s eyes glanced at Hongjoong. Like always he was carrying his expensive equipment, meaning his camera, and his little bag on his right shoulder. Of course he was cold, he wasn’t even wearing a damn warm jacket.

‘You can’t come in.’

_ Damn, San. You should’ve said that a bit differently! Now he’s going to suspect you. He’s going to report you to the police and well, this is going to be the end of your story. The end of your and Wooyoung’s story.  _

Oh God, oh God. This was the end. San could feel it. His heart was racing, he bet Hongjoong was going to take out his cellphone and dial 119. Should he punch him unconscious? _Excuse me, San, how could you think that? You thug. You seriously weren’t thinking about hurting your only friend, were you?! What’ve you become?!_

‘Huh?’ Hongjoong frowned upon San’s unexpected answer. ‘Why not?’

Well, why not? San kept thinking and thinking, trying to find a plausible excuse that wouldn’t raise too much suspicion. He glanced at his keys. _Oh, right!_

‘It’s really messy. I have to clean first.’

Ah, Hongjoong didn’t buy it, San could tell by the look on his face. What now? Should San come clean? Tell him? _Ah, no. You mustn’t. Think about how disappointed Wooyoung would be if he found out you were responsible for the police to find him! You couldn’t tell Hongjoong, just keep insisting on not letting him in._

Stop spacing out, San! He blinked and looked up. _Wait_. 

He heard Hongjoong murmuring something he didn’t understand, but San was sure he was complaining or something. What panicked San even more than that was the fact that Hongjoong had used San being absentminded to grab his keys and, well, open the damn fucking apartment door all by himself.

_ You could report him for invading your home. _

San quickly pushed the voices aside and tried to grab Hongjoong before he could set a foot into his apartment, but it was too late. Hongjoong had already walked inside, leaving the keys stuck in the lock.

‘Hongjoong!’ San screeched and quickly took out the keys and then walked inside. A quick glance into the living room. Wooyoung wasn’t there. If he wasn’t sleeping anymore, he’d be in the kitchen. Oh God, in the kitchen where Hongjoong was headed towards! San quickly followed him, still trying to tell him that he really should go home because they’d see each other later at work anyways, that San had lots of things to do and prepare before work and he wouldn’t be able to do it all if Hongjoong was around. 

But Hongjoong didn’t listen. Hongjoong never listened when he thought he was in the right, he never listened when he had a clear objective in mind. And he also didn’t listen now. But when they entered the kitchen and San’s heart almost exploded, both found themselves to be alone.

San could feel a clap on his neck, Hongjoong’s cold hands made it even more painful.

‘The hell you talking about, ‘messy’? Your apartment has never been so clean before.’

Yes, that wasn’t the point, you know? Even though San was literally sweating liters of water right now, even though Hongjoong really upset him and gave him the biggest heart attack ever, what freaked him out even more was the fact that he couldn’t see Wooyoung. Usually, he’d still be asleep. So where was he?

Oh God, _oh God_, he’d left him. Wooyoung was gone. He was gone for good. For good? For bad! He’d left him behind, all alone. San had really thought he wouldn’t do that, especially after how they’d spent the night together. But no, Wooyoung was gone. Wooyoung was somewhere in the cold, in some place San didn’t know, in some place where San couldn’t take care of him. He hoped he’d at least taken a warm jacket and warm clothes. He hoped he’d at least taken one or two of the blankets with him. He sincerely hoped he was okay. But now San was alone. All alone. San had lost his treasure, the treasure he’d cherished with all his heart. Wooyoung was gone. _And it was your fault, and your fault only. He wasn’t happy here. You didn’t care enough for him. And now he’s somewhere in the cold, freezing, because you couldn’t freaking do the one job you had to do. Shame on you, freaking shame on you, San._

San had stood in the doorstep, listening to all the blaming in silent. He couldn’t grasp reality. This couldn’t be true. Wooyoung couldn’t be gone. Please, someone tell him he wasn’t actually gone.

‘I’m telling you, San. The story I’m working on is gold. This could be my breakthrough.’

‘I’m happy to hear that.’ San responded, his voice monotone and lifeless, as if someone or something had just sucked his soul out of his body. Did life make sense without Wooyoung in it? San doubted that.

Don’t get him wrong, he was really happy for Hongjoong. He was happy this story he was so enthusiastic about could earn him good reputation and hopefully lots of money, but San was worried. San was so worried, he couldn’t think clearly. Was he going to cry? Did he have to look after another treasure now? But no one was as perfect as Wooyoung. No one was.

San hadn’t moved until Hongjoong (who took himself the freedom to make some tea) told him to sit down next to him because they had to talk about work. So San sat down, put the shopping bags next to his chair and stared at the dining table, waiting for Hongjoong to start talking while the smell of fresh lemon tea penetrated his nostrils.

‘The reason why I came here to talk to you was because I don’t know when I’ll be able to stop by the office again.’

_ Wooyoung was gone. _

‘You know, this story requires a lot of research and most of it I can’t do on the computer in the office.’

_ But his birthday. _

‘I won’t be taking any other jobs until I finish this story.’

_ His soft hand, his pure skin. _

‘San, are you listening?’

He’d finally looked up. Was he listening? Or was he just hearing dull voices that either came from Hongjoong or from inside his head, he didn’t know. He’d heard what Hongjoong had said. But did he understand it? Did he process it?

‘So?’ San asked, he wasn’t sure whether his body was slowly shutting down or whether he was getting really angry with Hongjoong.

‘I’m here to tell you that you can take off a few days.’

Oh! That was nice, he remembered he wanted to ask him because Wooyoung’s birthday and—but Wooyoung was gone now. He didn’t need time off. He wanted to protest, at least work would distract himself a bit, at home he’d just go crazy _again_.

‘Let’s say I’ll give you time off until Monday for now, hm? There won’t be work at the office so it’d be useless for you to come in anyway.’

San just nodded. What could he do about it, hm? Maybe he could drown himself in his tears. Maybe he could starve himself as punishment for how badly he’d treated Wooyoung.

‘Great! You wanna know about the story? I’m so freaking excited, honestly.’

No. San nodded. ‘Sure.’

‘Great! So it’s about a missing boy, you know. He—‘ Hongjoong took a big sip from his tea, then he swore because it was hot and he burned his tongue. ‘He’s said to have been kidnapped by a stalker. His name is Jung Wooyoung. Poor boy, ay?’

So that’s what they were saying, hm? Wooyoung, his precious treasure, had been kidnapped by a gruesome stalker. He’s currently being held hostage, not given any food, but he’s rather being tortured. That’s what they were saying? Yes, yes that was true. San was a terrifying stalker, a kidnapper and he treated Wooyoung worse than dog. Yes, San really felt like that. They were saying the truth.

‘I’m trying to find him. It’s really hard ‘cause there ain’t much clues, but boy, I’m telling you. If I find him, this story will make me freaking rich. And, well, the boy will be safe, too.’ Hongjoong grinned at him.

‘You should find him quickly, then.’ San said. ‘It’s getting colder and colder every day.’

_ Oh God, he’ll freeze to death. _

Hongjoong nodded. ‘That’s why I don’t have much time. If you need something though, text me, yeah? But I don’t wanna see you in the office ‘til Monday, aight?’

He nodded silently.

He watched Hongjoong finishing his tea, he didn’t say much else about his perfect story, but then he got up.

‘Aight, I guess Imma leave—damn, San! You’ve got some fashion sense here!’ Hongjoong bent down to take the clothes out of the shopping bag, the clothes that were meant to be for Wooyoung, the pretty and warm clothes San had been unable to give to Wooyoung before he’d left him. ‘I didn’t know you dressed like that!’

‘Me neither.’ San said, looking at the pretty jacket and the hoodie that Hongjoong was holding up. A red jacket made out of nice material. It was a bit expensive, yes. But absolutely worth it. A black hoodie with red text on it. If he wore both together, it wouldn’t only be warm, it would be stylish. Sadly, he couldn’t give him these clothes anymore.

Hongjoong nodded in approval, telling him he was proud to finally see San paying attention to his looks. Then he took his stuff and walked out of the kitchen. San followed him, held his camera while Hongjoong was putting on his shoes.

‘See you, San.’ He said, patting his shoulder and then taking his camera.

San nodded. ‘Good luck with your story.’

And then he closed the door after Hongjoong had left. San turned around to press his body against the door, internally begging for someone to wake him up from this freaking nightmare he was in.

Suddenly, San heard a little tapping noise, then the door from his storage room opened a tiny crack. First he saw a single eye, a beautiful, curious eye. Then the door opened a bit more until the head of the most beautiful person on the planet could fit through. His heart sank.

‘He gone?’

San stared at the boy. Was this an illusion? Was San seeing things again? Was this even real? The boy’s eyes searched the whole apartment until they locked with San’s eyes. He really wanted to cry now. He really freaking wanted to scream and cry and throw things and... and thank God.

Before he could do anything, San’s legs gave in, making him slide down to the ground. _Breathe, breathe. You could breathe_. San didn’t dare look away, he didn’t dare blink. San just wanted to look at the confused expression on Wooyoung’s face as he crawled out of the storage room towards San, stopping in front of him and raising an eyebrow in confusion. _So you didn’t leave? _

‘That was close, wasn’t it?’ Wooyoung said.

_Yes. Yes it was. San had been really close to losing his mind. Because he thought you’d left him. Because he thought you’d be so mean and leave him. No, San was the mean one. San was the one in the wrong because he’d thought so awfully of you. But you were still here, by his side. You hadn’t left. You were there, looking at him all confused but also relieved._ And San finally smiled.

‘Yeah.’ He said. ‘Pretty close.’

His hand searched for Wooyoung’s, and when he took it, all the stress was gone. His heart began to slow down, he stopped sweating, and he could feel the refreshing sensation of relief. He held his hand as though it was the first and last time he’d held them. And then he just continued smiling.

*

Seonghwa was exhausted. It was not like he’d done a lot today, it was not like they’d arrested a murderer today. But sometimes it was more exhausting to come home from work without having done much, without having witnessed the horrifying nature of human kind than coming home having chased down a murderer. Because if he had done that, he’d at least feel some kind of relief, knowing that he‘d brought closure to some families. But today, and also the days before, he‘d felt like a miserable failure. Yunho constantly accused him of being indifferent to the situation, not trying his best to find the missing boy when in reality, Seonghwa was just trying to cope with his incompetence. He was trying to find the boy. But there just were no clues. Nothing that could indicate where he was, who had taken him or, sadly, if he was even still alive. 

Seonghwa had solved a lot of gruesome crimes in his career. He’d solved cold cases no one believed could be solved. He‘d done a lot for the people, for families that had suffered losses, even for criminals. He wanted to believe that if he didn’t solve this one missing person case, if he didn’t bring him home, it would be okay, because he’d solved so many other cases. But that would be wrong. If he was really thinking like that, he shouldn’t be called an honest detective. He should be called scum. Maybe that’s what he was? 

He fiddled with the different keys on his key chain until he found the right one to open the door to his apartment. Another night without success, without any clues, without progress. Sigh. He lifted his head after smacking his keys onto the little dresser next to his door, just to make out a dark shadow in the shape of a human chilling on his sofa, playing on their phone. Seonghwa had almost let out a screech but luckily he was quick at recognizing the idiot that had invaded his home.

‘Damn freaking hell, do you always have to scare me like that, fuck’s sake.’

Seonghwa held his hand to his chest, trying to calm his heart down. _Don’t worry, it’s no burglar, it’s just a freaking moron._ ‘What if I knock you down one time, believing you wanna rob my apartment?’

Said person raised his right eyebrow as if he wanted to say ‘_damn, you really think there’s something inside this apartment anyone would possibly want to steal?_’. Yeah, yeah. Seonghwa was a minimalist, he didn’t have fancy stuff. Maybe because his fucking job didn’t pay him with gold nuggets?!

‘You know, maybe I am a burglar.’ Seonghwa watched him sit up straight and putting away his phone, grinning at him with this smile that made Seonghwa’s eyes crawl back. He was joking, he loved seeing him smile. Even if he was annoying as hell. ‘I took 20 bucks from your secret hiding spot.’

Seonghwa threw his hands up in despair, walking up to him. ‘That’s impossible. I changed the spot just two days ago!’

‘Changing it to your old spot, which is between your cute underwear, doesn’t change _anything_.’

He rolled his eyes. God, what did he do to deserve this? Please, please just tell him. What did he do?

‘I could call the cops on you for breaking in and stealing.’

‘It ain’t breaking in if you leave your spare key right in front of the door.’

‘You still stole my freaking money.’ Seonghwa groaned. He was a detective, he didn’t want to put up with this shit. And still he did. All. The. Time.

‘Then call the cops.’ 

Seonghwa raised his eyebrow. ‘I’m doing it.’

‘Great. I’m watching.’

Seonghwa took out his phone and dialed the number, then he showed the display to the freaking idiot, trying to tell him ‘dude, I’m really gonna freaking do it’.

‘You gotta press the green button for the call to go through.’

_Ah, shit_. Stupid moron.

‘Fuck’s sake.’ Seonghwa locked his phone again and threw it onto the sofa, then he took off his coat. ‘I freaking hate you, Jongho.’

‘Nah, you don’t.’ He grinned again, watching Seonghwa as he sat down next to him on the sofa, staring at the ceiling as he let out a big, loud, passionate sigh. Why was he doing what he was doing? Was he doing something meaningful? Why did he have to deal with so many morons in his life? Had he done something bad in his past life? Probably. Seonghwa had always been a good person. Well, no. Okay, major lie. But he wasn’t a bad person. He never harmed anyone. At least not intentionally. So why, God, why punish him with so much things he really didn’t want to deal with. He didn’t deserve that.

‘Why the hell are you not at home?’ Seonghwa asked, still staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t the first time that Jongho (uninvitedly) broke into his apartment, always in the most unfitting moments. Once, Seonghwa had a date with someone he actually thought of as a potential partner, someone he considered a decent human being, so he was really careful about how he acted and how he treated that person. Seonghwa had prepared dinner for them at his apartment, everything was going pretty well, but then Jongho came climbing through the window (to this day, he refuses to tell Seonghwa how he got up there), begging him for money to go to the PC Cafe and then he went ‘Oh, is that the hot lawyer you were talking about, the one with this weird fetish?’

It was the hot lawyer with the weird fetish. No, Seonghwa was not going to tell you what fetish it was. And yes, that was the last date Seonghwa had had since.

‘As if you didn’t know the answer to that question.’ Jongho said and took his phone between his fingers again to continue playing some stupid game.

‘Right.’ Seonghwa sighed, finally looking at him. ‘What was it this time?’

He just saw Jongho shrugging. ‘Don’t know. Left before it could escalate.’

Seonghwa nodded and offered him to sleep at his apartment tonight, but obviously, Jongho had already planned on doing exactly that and had accordingly brought his favorite pillow and charger for his phone. This dude’s battery was never above 30 percent. 

‘You look exhausted. Work’s hard?’ Jongho asked, but Seonghwa just snorted.

‘Hard? No. Tiring. Because we don’t make any progress.’

‘Is it about that missing boy?’

Seonghwa turned to him, the apartment was almost completely dark, the only light source was indeed Jongho’s phone. ‘How do you know about that?’

‘The posters. They’re everywhere. He looks pretty hot, though.’

‘What the hell, Jongho. He’s a missing person.’

‘Doesn’t change the fact that he’s hot.’

Seonghwa grunted at Jongho’s words but couldn’t help thinking about the gay porn magazine that Yunho had found in Wooyoung’s room. 

‘So no trace of him?’

Seonghwa shook his head, telling him that they really had no lead, that it was confusing. Nobody knew anything, not even his closest friends, not even his family. There didn’t seem to be a place where he could possibly be. There was no clear evidence that this stalker actually existed, but there also was no evidence that proved him to be fake. They’d found his backpack full of money, together with his phone, but the phone contained no relevant information. So no one knew where he was. And Seonghwa was angry about that.

‘What about your hot partner?’

‘Oh my God, do you always have to call everyone hot?’ Seonghwa looked at him angrily, but Jongho held up his hands in defense, telling him he only called _hot_ people hot. Duh.

‘He’s alright, I guess. I mean he’s annoying but it could be worse. He sometimes reminds me of myself when I first started working. He’s so full of energy, he thinks he can solve anything. Maybe that’s a good attitude, but it’ll crush him once he doesn’t solve a case. And he talks so much. He’s maybe even worse than you.’

‘Well, thank you for that.’ Jongho giggled and then proceeded to look at his phone.

‘You know what the saddest part about this case is?’ Seonghwa turned his head to the ceiling again. ‘I don’t know whether this boy is playing with us or whether he’s actually in danger. I don’t know whether his parents actually care for him or whether they enjoy the attention. I don’t know if there’s a kidnapper out there or not. I don’t know who the bad guy is.’

‘I don’t think that’s what you should focus on. You shouldn’t try to detect the bad guy but rather try to bring home the boy safe and alive.’

‘What if he isn’t?’

‘Oh, he better be. When he comes back I’d love to make a move on him.’

Jongho got slapped with a pillow. 

‘You’re so fucking insensitive.’ Seonghwa kept hitting him while Jongho jokingly (or not) screamed for help, trying to escape Seonghwa’s beating. But Seonghwa smiled a little bit and he remembered that Jongho was no moron and that he actually was pretty happy to have him. Even if he stole his money from time to time.

_ Stupid idiot.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	11. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well... I guess I should wish you lots of fun reading this chapter!  
But will it really be fun? Mwahahaha.  
The chapter actually turned out to be a bit longer than I expected...  
Alright guys, see you at the end!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Briefly mentions death & suicide.
> 
> (excuse me y’all I got chills when I saw the pic I added—If it doesn’t fit perfectly into this story idk what does!!)

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 10, News**

**제 10 장 , 소식**

Ever since Hongjoong had left, Wooyoung couldn’t help but feel weird. He couldn’t really describe the feeling, but it was different from how he’d felt last week, when he first came here. Every few minutes, thoughts would cross his mind, demanding him to leave because he longed to go home. Was his anxiety coming back? Was this temporary? What if he kept on feeling like this for the rest of his stay? Wooyoung was no expert, by any means, but he knew that this anxiety was going to cause him a lot of mental distress if it kept nagging on him, not leaving him alone. 

He’d actually felt pretty well on Tuesday. He’d woken up shortly after San had left the apartment and Wooyoung actually decided to look through San’s storage room again. Obviously, San didn’t care and Wooyoung thought that maybe he could find out more things about him if he read more of his diary entries. Wooyoung felt pretty bad for him after their conversation the night before and when he entered the storage room and the suicide note from his mother fell into his eyes, he felt pressure on his chest and somehow the whole mood changed. But this wasn’t what made Wooyoung’s anxiety return. He’d grabbed himself a few diaries and other thin notebooks before he sat down on the floor, turning his back to the table because he didn’t want to risk a glance at the suicide note. Looking at it made him feel as though he was trespassing San’s and his mother’s privacy. In some way he did trespass San’s privacy, he was looking at his diaries after all, but if he could he’d definitely avoid bothering San’s deceased mother. Judging from the choice of words on the note, Wooyoung believed they had had a good relationship. This didn’t make Wooyoung feel any better, though. He wondered why she’d taken her own life and he wondered where San’s father was.

Wooyoung had to admit that he liked San’s handwriting. It wasn’t particularly beautiful or anything, sometimes it was even quite hard to read, but it had some aesthetic to it. And Wooyoung wasn’t talking about his handwriting alone, he also meant his writing style. Somehow, whatever San wrote, it seemed tragically beautiful. It warmed Wooyoung’s heart but tore it apart at the same time. And to be honest, Wooyoung didn’t understand most of what San wrote, not much of it made sense to Wooyoung. He believed that if he had known San better, he would’ve understood. But reading all of his entries wouldn’t make Wooyoung understand him better, only really talking to San would. But Wooyoung had noticed a few things. 

San wrote to his mother a lot. Not about her, but _to_ her, as if one day he could really give the entries to his mum. Maybe sometime he will be able to give them to her. But somehow, Wooyoung had never seen the word ‘father’ in any of his entries. San had never written to his dad, at least Wooyoung believed so. Was it because his father was still alive and maybe San wrote him letters that he actually also sent to him? Or did he just never mention him? Maybe he did, but Wooyoung didn’t notice because San may have written about him in metaphors. Wooyoung read about himself, too. He noticed that sometimes, San referred to him as his ‘treasure’. Wooyoung liked that, actually. He liked being called a treasure. And Wooyoung only ever read nice stuff about himself. He read about how much San appreciated him and liked him. Some entries, however, still gave Wooyoung goosebumps.

_ My treasure _

_ Your skin must be so soft, is that why you like touching it so much? _

_ I wish I, too, could touch it like you do. _

Wooyoung couldn’t help but turn red. It sounded really ambiguous. Wooyoung feared he actually did understand this entry in it’s fullest meaning. And again, he didn’t know how to feel about it. And by far, it wasn’t the weirdest or only entry of this kind. Some, Wooyoung didn’t even finish reading. But then again, these entries also weren’t the reason for Wooyoung’s anxiety. In some way, and he hated to admit it (that’s why he didn’t admit it), some of these entries Wooyoung had actually enjoyed reading. Because San spoke so highly of him. He spoke about Wooyoung as though he was a God of some kind, he literally praised him. And we all knew that Wooyoung liked nothing more than being praised. So even if he didn’t want to say it, he actually liked these entries, they made him feel some kind of way he only ever felt like when he was alone in his room, in his little fantasy world, doing things you didn’t want your parents catch you doing. And to be honest, he wasn’t even ashamed of himself. 

But then, when he was in the middle of a diary entry, he heard the door unlock. But it sounded different. There were loud noises, San never made so much noise, because he knew that Wooyoung may still be asleep, and then he also heard a voice that he wasn’t familiar with. Wooyoung had quietly crawled into the direction of the door and pressed his ear against it. That one word Wooyoung could make out before the voices became quieter was a name. Hongjoong. The chili paste man. 

So he was real? Not going to lie, Wooyoung had truly believed that this Hongjoong guy was an invisible friend of San’s, but he was happy to have been proven wrong. But Wooyoung was curious. He was curious whether he really had hair that looked like fire, if he really was a freelance journalist and photographer. If he really talked so much that San got annoyed with him. And at this point, Wooyoung had started to feel uncomfortable again. From this point on, he felt his anxiety crawl back inside him, infecting every of his limbs, one by one, until the only part free from this poison was his brain. And he didn’t know how long it’d take for his anxiety to also poison his mind. Wooyoung began to feel the urge to go outside, to walk up to them and to greet the stranger. He wanted to tell him how happy he was that San hadn’t lied about him, that a friend named Hongjoong actually existed. He wanted to sit down next to him and, yeah, talk. Just talk. He freaking wanted to talk to another person. Wooyoung had spent over a week talking to no one but San and until that point of time, San also hadn’t said that much to him. Most of the time he was alone in the living room, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how miserable his friends and parents must be at that moment. He almost got drunk from the joy of these thoughts, he’d spent hours thinking about that. But after a while, after not knowing what was happening in the outside world, these thoughts had become boring. Wooyoung didn’t know what his parents were doing, if they were still looking for him. He didn’t know whether his friend—_Yeosang_ was thinking about him, if he was regretting not believing him. When San came home with the missing person poster, Wooyoung fell into a pool of euphoria again, he felt as though he was given a feast after days of starvation. But Wooyoung also knew that after some days pass, this euphoria would pass with them. And then? What would he do then? Then he’d spend his days eating cake, nice cake, but you couldn’t chew on a piece of cake for hours, you know? Sometimes he went through San’s books, but the books he owned were really weird. Mostly children’s books with lots of illustrations. But nothing interesting. The only book that kind of caught his attention was something called ‘The boy who cried wolf.’ It was a really thin book, a children’s book as well, and Wooyoung believed that he’d read this story at some point in his life, but the book San owned had a fairly different ending. A not so innocent ending.

But besides that and basically breathing, Wooyoung was doing nothing. It had already been over a week ago since he last stepped outside. No human contact besides San. Okay, yeah, there was this little boy, Yoojin. But you couldn’t really call that an interaction, right? But honestly, Wooyoung would give anything for this boy to come over and play with Wooyoung, as creepy as it might sound. Wooyoung was no pervert, he surely wasn’t, but he just wanted some human interaction. Or any action he could get. It was boring, it was monotone, and Wooyoung didn’t know for how long he was stuck in this tiny apartment. He didn’t know when he was going to see another human being again. He didn’t know when he was going to set foot onto the asphalt again. He wanted to breathe in the fresh air, he didn’t want it from an opened window. He actually wanted to step outside. He didn’t care if it was cold. He just longed to go out for a bit. Maybe he could go out for a while, fifteen minutes, and then come back in? San would allow that, wouldn’t he? Hey, there was no reason for him not to allow it, right? Not too many people lived here anyway, and if Wooyoung wore a hoodie or something, no one would even notice him. Oh, gosh, he longed for fresh air. 

And for the first time, Wooyoung felt trapped. He was trapped not just inside a tiny apartment, but also inside a tiny room, full of pictures of himself, staring back at him telling him ‘this is what you wanted, isn’t it?’ And Wooyoung didn’t answer because he didn’t know if this really was what he wanted. Hearing voices coming from outside, all jolly and excited, made him angry. He was literally boiling inside because he couldn’t go outside. Wooyoung wished for a moment that Hongjoong knew about him. He wished he knew because then Wooyoung could just walk outside, greet him with a simple ‘sup’, and then they’d have a nice conversation without having to fear that Hongjoong might tell everyone the truth. And his plan would still work out. Why couldn’t San tell him? If Hongjoong was such good friends with him, Hongjoong must’ve been just as weird as San, right? So let’s just tell him. Hm? Please?

And then the voices came closer again, they became louder. And Wooyoung’s heart pounded against his rib cage. What if he just walked outside now? What if he just went outside before Hongjoong could leave? Or maybe they were coming inside? Oh, maybe San just told him about Wooyoung! Maybe he thought this was a good idea as well! Oh, maybe Wooyoung would finally have someone to talk to, yes?

But sadly, Wooyoung found himself to be wrong. He’d heard the door opening and closing again, and the voices had disappeared. And then Wooyoung slowly opened the door—there was still a tiny chance for Hongjoong to still be there, maybe they’d just stopped talking. But when he saw San leaning against the door, he knew Hongjoong was gone. San looked terrible, by the way. He was sweating and when he saw Wooyoung, he dropped onto the ground. He must’ve been frightened, knowing that any second Hongjoong could’ve detected Wooyoung. He knew that San was happy that that hadn’t been the case, that was why Wooyoung acted the same, but somehow... somehow Wooyoung was sad.

He was sad that Hongjoong hadn’t discovered Wooyoung.

And this weird feeling slumbered inside him for the rest of the day. San told him that he was given off from work, and Wooyoung didn’t know how to feel about that. He somehow was happy, because, well, San would be there to entertain him, but at the same time Wooyoung also didn’t want to be entertained by him. He didn’t really want to hang out with him. Because what would they do? San didn’t even have a TV. If there was a TV, Wooyoung would be much happier. But well, there wasn’t. And Wooyoung didn’t know how he should spent 24 hours a day next to San. 

That day, even though San slept next to him again, they weren’t holding hands. Wooyoung didn’t want to take it because he felt weird and holding his hand would only amplify his anxiety. Again, it was not like he believed San would do anything to him, he knew he wouldn’t, but if Wooyoung didn’t want to hold hands with him, he didn’t have to. Somehow, the things he’d felt on Monday evening, when they were next to each other like that for the first time, all these feelings were gone. Or maybe they were there, but altered. They were different. Luckily, San also didn’t grab Wooyoung’s hands. Probably because he didn’t want to pressure him into something, and Wooyoung was grateful for that. He didn’t know what he’d have done when San had grabbed his hands. Would he have taken it back? Or would he have endured it? He didn’t know, but he was happy he didn’t have to make a decision.

But ever since Wooyoung had woken up the next day, he felt the same. In fact, this anxiety grew bigger and Wooyoung feared it would soon control his whole actions. Because as for now, Wooyoung could still control himself. He could still hide his true feelings from San because Wooyoung didn’t know how he’d react if Wooyoung were to be honest with him. Would he understand?

The time they spent wasn’t horrible. They had breakfast together, didn’t talk much, Wooyoung then proceeded to take a shower so more time would go by and then, well, they sat together in the living room. Again, not talking too much. But in fact, Wooyoung found out that San owned a smartphone. A phone with YouTube on it. A phone where you could watch live TV. God, Wooyoung was so happy. He’d asked San if he could download a game and obviously, San didn’t say no. So Wooyoung downloaded whatever game that came up first in the Store and started playing it, while San sat next to him, cleaning up the living room. Wooyoung wasn’t really good at the game, to be honest, he actually didn’t really understand it that well either. He just did what he thought he had to do, sometimes it worked out and he managed to get to the next level, but maybe it would’ve helped if he had actually read through the tutorial. But he didn’t care. The game completely distracted him from everything that was going on around him and inside his mind. All he cared about was that stupid game.

After some time, shortly after he’d reached level 32, he smelled something nice coming from the kitchen. It smelled like ramen. Oh, yes. Perfect. He was really hungry. And he loved ramen. He plugged the charger into the phone so when he’d come back he could continue playing his game without having to fear that he’d run out of battery. Then he walked into the kitchen and he was right. San had made ramen.

‘I’m sorry. It’s not much.’ He said, but Wooyoung shook his head, reassuring him that ramen was perfectly fine. 

Then he sat down opposite to him and started eating.

‘So... have you ever thought about telling Hongjoong? About me?’

Wooyoung tried to let his words sound as nonchalant as possible, as though it was the most normal question someone would ever ask, while avoiding San’s eyes.

‘I considered it a few times, yes.’

Wooyoung’s head shot up. ‘You did? And to what conclusion did you come?’

Gulping.

‘That I couldn’t tell him.’

A what? Wooyoung blinked a few times. Did he understand him correctly? Did he say he couldn’t tell him? That didn’t make sense... but why? Wooyoung asked him exactly that.

‘Because he’s looking for you.’ San finally looked up from his bowl, directly into Wooyoung’s eyes. And for the first time in a while, Wooyoung felt something similar to fear. Because the way San said that made it sound as though no one should ever find Wooyoung. It indeed sounded like a fearless psychopath stalker. ‘He’s covering your case as a journalist. He wants to find you.’

_Oh_.

Suddenly, Wooyoung shut down again. So the question of whether San could arrange for Hongjoong to come over so the three of them could hang out wasn’t worth asking anymore, was it? San would decline, no doubt. What next?

Wooyoung laughed forcefully. ‘Imagine if he’d found me yesterday. He’d be praised in the media.’

Wooyoung was still laughing. San wasn’t.

‘Yes. And I would be in jail.’

Wooyoung wasn’t laughing anymore. Neither was San.

And as much as Wooyoung wanted to hide his true feelings, as much as it was necessary to not upset San in any way, he couldn’t get himself to say any positive words to him. Nothing like: I’d protect you from police, I’d tell them it wasn’t your fault. You wouldn’t go to jail. No. Wooyoung couldn’t say anything to that. Because he didn’t care, right? He didn’t care whether San was going to go to jail or not. He didn’t care what would happen to him after people found Wooyoung. He didn’t care. And he didn’t want to know.

‘Phew.’ Wooyoung then said after a few minutes of extremely pressing silence. ‘I’m so full. Thanks a lot. I can clean up if you want.’

San shook his head. ‘You can go and play your game.’

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Wooyoung just nodded and then quickly left the room. When he closed the kitchen door behind him, he leaned against it and inhaled deeply. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ And then he exhaled slowly, trying to block out the fact that he was shaking. Why the hell was this so eerie? Somehow, San had had a different atmosphere around him. It was similar to the one he had when he’d come home with the missing person poster. But that time it was less fear than... than whatever it was this time. It gave Wooyoung the chills. It made him want to leave immediately. Why was Wooyoung suddenly so afraid of him again? He knew San would never hurt him, at least he wouldn’t do it intentionally. But did he know it or did Wooyoung only _want_ to know it? How could he be so sure about that? He didn’t know San that well. In fact, he knew nearly nothing about him. Let’s see. His name was San. Last name? Unknown. Age? Also unknown. Mother was dead, his father’s whereabouts were also unknown. San liked Wooyoung, he liked writing in his diary, he was good at taking pictures, he had a friend called Hongjoong, he liked reading children’s books and he was kind of weird. That was everything. Everything Wooyoung knew about San. But in contrary, San knew everything about Wooyoung. He even knew what size clothes he wore, his favorite type of cake. Most married couples didn’t even know that about their partners. San had seen Wooyoung do stuff Wooyoung only ever did when he thought he was by himself, things he didn’t want anyone else to see. San knew stuff about Wooyoung that Wooyoung didn’t even know himself. Knowing that someone else knew you so well wasn’t a good feeling. It was terrifying. Wooyoung hated it. He hated that feeling, he hated being here and he hated... he hated San?

Wooyoung’s eyes carefully wandered across the hallway until they got stuck on the apartment door. Why not just leave? He could just walk up there, open the door and run. San wouldn’t catch him. San wouldn’t even notice he was gone if he was quiet enough. Why not—

Wooyoung felt the door he was leaning against disappear, making him lose his balance and stumble backwards, only to be caught by two hands which fingers dug themselves into the flesh of his upper arms. Every single hair on his body stood up, his eyes widening as he felt a cold breath against his neck.

‘Careful.’

San’s voice was calm, as always. It was so, so calm. And it freaked Wooyoung out. His eyes were still pinned at the apartment door and one single thought crossed his mind. _Too late._ Somehow, he felt the urge to cry. He just wanted to cry. Was this karma? Was karma coming back at him for lying? For having caused this beautiful, beautiful mess? Wooyoung didn’t even understand himself anymore. He thought he was over this whole anxiety and regret thing. He thought what he was doing was worth it, that it was going exactly according to his plan. So why had he fallen into this deep hole again? Why was he having these destructive thoughts again, thoughts that made him regret being here, together with San, a guy he thought was a good guy. No, he knew that San was a good guy. So why was Wooyoung so utterly frightened by him now? Why did he wish for nothing more than San just leaving him alone?

‘Are you not going to play?’ San still kept his hands around Wooyoung’s arms, but he’d loosened his grip after he made sure that Wooyoung had restored his balance.

‘Yeah.’ Wooyoung just nodded and freed himself from San’s grip before he walked into the living room. He took the phone after making his bed so he could lie down. He didn’t want to play his game. He didn’t want to do anything. ‘Actually, I think I’ll watch some show and go to sleep. Is that okay?’

Wooyoung turned to San who had followed him into the living room. San told him that it was alright and that he should rest because tomorrow, it would be his birthday. Oh, right. The day Wooyoung had looked forward to just yesterday. The day on which he thought he was going to have a nice time with his stalker, drinking beer and eating delicious food. How was he going to enjoy it when he couldn’t even look at San without having the urge to cry? And Wooyoung wasn’t someone who cried often. He rarely cried. Wooyoung was sad. Why could he not have a birthday he actually enjoyed? 

Wooyoung let his head sink into the pillow. _It was alright. Just endure it a bit longer, only a few days and then you’ll just leave, okay? You’re just gonna leave._ Wooyoung internally nodded to himself. _Let’s pretend nothing’s wrong and then, one day, when San is distracted or when he’s out, just walk away. Walk home. Run home. And everything will be alright._

Wooyoung’s eyes stared blankly at the bright display of the phone. He was watching live TV, some series was currently on, he didn’t really get what it was about. But he watched it anyway. It distracted him, at least for a little while until his eyes slowly closed and he fell asleep, even though he felt San’s eyes piercing through the back of his head.

Wooyoung woke up from noises coming from another room. Oh, damnit. Another day. And it was his birthday at that. God, will this ever end? He sat up straight and looked next to him, only to find himself being alone in the room. So the noises he heard must come from the kitchen. San was probably preparing breakfast. Should he just keep sleeping, so the day would be over faster? But he knew that as soon as he’d close his eyes again, all the thoughts from yesterday would come back and make it impossible for him to rest. Alright. Let’s do it. Let’s get this day over with as quickly as possible. This really wasn’t how he imagined his 19th birthday to be.

He quickly grabbed the phone and walked into the kitchen, only to be met by a pair of eyes that narrowed as the man began smiling when he detected Wooyoung in the doorstep.

‘Wooyoung.’ San said. ‘Happy birthday.’

Ugh. Wooyoung forced a tiny smile.

‘Thanks.’ He sat down at the table. ‘Looks good.’

Wooyoung pointed at the food that San had just put down on the table when Wooyoung came into the kitchen. He’d made lots of stuff, he was probably trying to make up for only giving Wooyoung ramen yesterday. As yummy as the food looked and also smelled, Wooyoung had no appetite. Only thinking about food made his stomach turn and since there was so much of it, he really didn’t know how to eat it all. 

‘Do you mind if I watch TV?’ Wooyoung held up the phone and looked at San as he sat down. He shook his head.

‘Not at all. Go on.’

Wooyoung nodded. Thank God. Like that, he at least didn’t have to talk to him. He leaned the phone against the wall so that both of them could look at the display. See, Wooyoung was so kind, even though he was feeling like pure shit! He looked for a channel, one that worked, because some of them just wouldn’t work. And after a short time, he actually found one. Thinking back, Wooyoung believed that it was fate that he clicked on that exact channel. It was a channel he rarely ever watched when he was at home, because they only showed stuff he wasn’t interested in. But it was one of the few channels that worked on San’s phone. And if he hadn’t clicked on it, this story probably wouldn’t have ended the way it did. 

They were watching the news. Wooyoung forced himself to look interested, totally hooked on what they were reporting, even though he didn’t register one single word they were saying. They were reporting local news, they were talking about economics and the latest business issues but then, while he was picking at his food with his chopsticks, the news that followed actually did concern him.

He looked at the screen, and even though he saw the reporter’s lips moving, he couldn’t understand a word he was saying. Everything that Wooyoung saw was a picture that was blended in on the left side of the screen. A picture he knew. A picture San knew. A picture hundreds and thousands of people were currently looking at. A picture that showed no one else but Wooyoung himself.

And then, when he recognized himself in the picture, he could suddenly hear what the reporter was saying.

‘_He was last seen in this area on Monday the 16th of November. We’ve got his parents here to make an appeal to the public for more information.’_

Wooyoung’s heart pounded. It was pounding louder and louder when he saw the reporter disappear from the screen. And then there they were. His parents, his mother and his father, both of them, in front of a camera, in front of a microphone. His father’s hands were wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, pulling her close to him as his mother was fighting against her tears.

‘_Wooyoung-ah._’ His heart skipped a beat. How much time had passed since he last heard his mother call his name like that? ‘_Listen, mommy and daddy are waiting for you. We are waiting for you at home. We want you to know that we want you back. We—‘_

His mother had stopped talking as tears overtook the control of her body completely. Was what Wooyoung was seeing real? Or was it fabricated? Was he dreaming? Was he really watching his mother cry over his disappearance? Was he really seeing actual tears rolling down her cheeks, tears that were shed for him because they... they missed him? They were sad? They were genuinely sad? They cared? They made the effort to make a public appeal? They were begging him, begging him to come home?

‘_We beg everyone who could possibly have seen him or have any information about his whereabouts to come forward so we can have our son back. As meaningless as it might seem, any clues are relevant and important to us. It is our son’s 19th birthday today, and we’ve never spent a birthday that’s so sad. Son, come back so that we can celebrate together. Happy birthday.’_

His father’s voice... was he imagining it or was it really trembling?

‘_I just hope you’re okay, sweetheart. Please, please come back home, yes?’_

Wooyoung felt like someone had ripped out his heart and crushed it right in front of his eyes. Seeing his parents like that was something he’d never witnessed before. They had never cared like that. They had never shown emotions like these. He’d never seen his mother cry like that, he’d never heard his father’s voice being so desperate and in need for help. He was never given so much attention. 

Wooyoung felt how the poisonous anxiety penetrated his mind, how it contaminated every single thought he was having, making his head ring like an alarm bell. He felt how a wave of emotions took control over his body, filling his eyes with burning hot tears. His eyes wouldn’t leave the screen, even after his parents had disappeared from it and the channel continued with it’s program. All he could see in front of his eyes were his worried parents. His crying mother and his caring father. It was something he’d never seen before. But he knew that it was something he longed for. It was everything he ever longed for. And before he could stop himself, his lips began moving, forming words he never thought he’d actually say directly to San. Words Wooyoung didn’t even know he’d ever say to himself. A combination of words San probably didn’t ever want to hear.

‘San? I... I want to go home.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
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> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	12. Farewell?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohh, you guys! It was damn hard to write this chapter. >< I hope you’ll like it. Well ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).  
You know, after listening to Red Velvet’s Psycho, I feel like it would be a fitting theme song for this fic. Some lines in the song just fit perfectly. If you haven’t listened to this song yet, what’re you doing, man!! Go listen to it!!! But wouldn’t it be so cool to have a trailer or something for this fic?><  
So, well. Have fun with the chapter and as always, I can’t emphasize enough how grateful I am for all your support guys. You’re incredible!!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 11, Farewell?**

**제 11 장 , 작별인사?**

What had he done? Had Wooyoung just dug his own grave? He’d lost control over his body, over his words. He’d lost control over everything. Everything had went out of control and it didn’t just start yesterday. It started on the day Wooyoung told Yeosang about his stalker. Since then, Wooyoung had been doomed to fall into an abyss so deep, every attempt to climb out of it would fail and no one could help him. Because from down there, no one would hear him scream. No one would even know he was there. And this abyss he’d fallen into was this very place, San’s home. So was it enough? Were one week and four days enough to get back at his parents and friends? Were one week and four days worth it? Or had he wasted his time? Wooyoung didn’t dare look away from the smartphone screen. He didn’t dare look at San, because he didn’t want to see his face. He didn’t want to see the expression he’d put on. Therefore Wooyoung couldn’t tell if he was sad, angry, or if he even showed any sign of emotions. What about Wooyoung, though? Was he sad? Angry? Was it both?

‘Come again?’

Wooyoung gasped. San’s voice sounded eerily calm in his ears, and even though Wooyoung knew he was talking at a low pitch, his words rang in Wooyoung’s ears as though a whole orchestra was playing right besides him. Wooyoung didn’t know this for a long time, but when a person screamed at you when they were angry, it by far wasn’t as scary as people talking to you calmly, with a quiet but firm voice, penetrating your ears like a centipede and freaking you out because why, when someone was angry with you, why would they be calm and not loud? People who did that were the most terrifying ones, those kind of people were the ones you should fear because they knew they didn’t have to speak up to prove their dominance. And San was doing exactly that while Wooyoung had thought that he was the one pulling the strings here, not San. But maybe he’d been wrong the whole time.

Wooyoung kept quiet. His eyes had now left the screen, but they didn’t look at San. Instead, Wooyoung couldn’t look at anything as tears were blocking his view. He wasn’t bothered by that. He liked it. He didn’t want to look at anything anyways.

‘Wooyoung, speak to me, please.’

He bit his lips. It was fine. Wooyoung had the right to leave. He had the right to just walk out of the apartment. It wasn’t like San was holding him hostage. San had just accepted Wooyoung’s request of them living together for a while and, well, now it was Wooyoung’s time to leave. And San had to accept that. There was nothing he could do about it. So Wooyoung was just gonna get up from his chair, take his stuff or just leave it, he didn’t care, and then he’d get out of here. He’d ask someone for the way because he had no clue where exactly they were and then he’d go home and embrace his worried and desperate parents, the parents who cried for him on national TV. 

‘I wan’t to leave. I want to go home.’

Wooyoung was shocked at how firm his own voice sounded. He was very terrified in that moment, but at least he managed to speak clearly. And he’d finally also managed to look at San. And to be honest, Wooyoung couldn’t read his expression. Maybe because he absolutely showed no emotions. His face had been the same to what it usually was. Calm. Relaxed. Empty.

‘You told me you didn’t want to leave.’

‘Yes but—‘

‘So you lied to me?’

Silence. Wooyoung looked at him and San looked back. There it was again. The word Wooyoung hated the most. Lying. Wooyoung nodded slowly. He saw how San’s eyes hastily wandered around the room, he rested his back against the chair, his shoulders dropped. Wooyoung had noticed this a lot when he watched San preparing dinner or cleaning the apartment. He noticed that San was drifting away in his thoughts, his lips sometimes formed words, his eyes eyebrows would rise as though he was talking to someone, even though no one around him had said anything to him. Wooyoung believed it was San having an inner conflict with himself and with his thoughts. He probably didn’t know what to do next, how to handle the situation. But Wooyoung hoped for San to just accept it and let him go, because that was what Wooyoung thought he wanted to hear from San. Anticipating an answer from him, Wooyoung kept quiet. 

‘Why? Why’d you want to leave me?’ San’s eyes locked with Wooyoung’s again. ‘Was I not good enough? Did I not care enough for you? I know this isn’t much and I don’t have lots of money but I was trying, Wooyoung. I was trying my best. I really was.’

Wooyoung finally noticed emotions slipping into San’s words. His voice was still quiet, but he began to sound insecure. This didn’t seem to go into the direction in which Wooyoung hoped it would go.

‘I know. It’s not that. I really... appreciate everything you did for me, but I think it’s time for me to go.’

They exchanged eye contact. Silence. San blinked.

‘No.’

Wooyoung’s eyes widened. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I don’t want you to leave. You can’t leave. Why so suddenly, Wooyoung? Why? I thought you never intended to leave.’

San stood up from his chair, his voice had begun to tremble. This really wasn’t a good sign. He slowly walked around the table towards Wooyoung who jumped up from his chair with a loud screeching sound as the chair legs ran over the kitchen floor. San stopped in motion. His lower lips slightly trembling, eyes clinging onto Wooyoung.

‘I don’t understand. You told me you had nowhere to go. That you didn’t want to leave.’ San had lifted both of his hands just to lay them onto Wooyoung stiff shoulders. But Wooyoung flinched, he moved backwards to get rid of San’s touch. He didn’t want to feel him. He didn’t want his hands on his body. He wanted him gone. Out of his eye sight. But San didn’t understand. Wooyoung could see it from the shocked expression he put on his face when he looked at his hands, the hands that Wooyoung had once held in his very own, the hands that were now refused and pushed away. He looked at them as though they were covered in blood, as though he’d murdered someone with them. ‘I—I don’t understand.’

He was trembling. Not just San’s hands but also his whole body was shaking. Wooyoung now understood that they weren’t shaking because he didn’t understand but because he _understood_. He understood what Wooyoung had said to him he understood the meaning of Wooyoung’s words and actions, he registered what was going on. Wooyoung could see San struggling with keeping his breath shallow when he moved closer to the wall, just to get some inches between him and San. He’d looked at his face, how his lips where moving up and down, how his skin lost its color. But strangely enough, he wasn’t crying. San’s eyes were dry and empty. Hollow. Then he slowly sank onto his knees, Wooyoung watched him stare at the floor, his fingers digging into his thighs. Wooyoung thought he could hear him mumble something, but he couldn’t understand. His voice was too shaky, too quiet.

‘Wooyoung... please.’ San looked up again. One could argue that he was looking straight at Wooyoung, but Wooyoung felt as though San was looking right through him, into his head, into his body. San slowly came crawling into Wooyoung’s direction, making him press his body even tighter against the wall. ‘Please, don’t do this. I’m begging you.’

When he reached Wooyoung, he dug his claws into Wooyoung’s legs, he looked like a dog trying to climb up on a person and everyone knew, if a dog did that to you, a big dog, a dog with sharp teeth, a dog you didn’t know, all you could see in front of your eyes was it biting you, ripping your flesh out and splattering your blood in every direction. That was how Wooyoung was feeling. He’d let out a screech as he felt San’s fingers clutching tighter onto him, he begged him to let go. He tried to push San away from him, he pressed his hands against his shoulders, but he held so firmly onto him that he wouldn’t move an inch. And Wooyoung felt like the more he tried to get rid of him, the more he tightened his grip around Wooyoung’s tighs. Wooyoung could feel the tears running down his cheeks when San dug his face into Wooyoung’s shirt, when he felt his lips moving against the fabric of his shirt as he kept begging him to stay. Wooyoung was begging, too. He was begging him to let go, to leave him alone as he continued to try to push him away but it just wouldn’t work and Wooyoung wanted to scream, he wanted to punch him and he just wanted to go home. He was exhausted.

‘Please, San. It hurts.’ Wooyoung whined, still trying to wriggle out of San’s grip. But he feared San couldn’t hear him between his desperate pleas for Wooyoung to stay. Wooyoung felt trapped. What the hell was he supposed to do? Every single one of San’s touches felt as though someone pierced hundreds of nails through Wooyoung’s body. Over and over again. It hurt. It hurt like hell.

‘I said it hurts!’ Wooyoung collected all his strength to push San away, and that time San let loose. ‘Don’t fucking touch me!’

He was breathing heavily as he pressed his hands against his heart, trying to calm himself down but it wouldn’t work. San had fallen onto his butt, he was staring at Wooyoung in shock, eyes widened, mouth wide open.

‘You hurt me!’ Wooyoung had had enough. ‘You can’t hold me here. You have no right to do so. Can’t you see how fucking exhausted I am? I’m tired of this shit. I’m tired of hiding, I’m tired of this apartment. Tired of you. _Especially_ of you.’

Wooyoung’s voice had become firmer with every word he spoke. He saw that San was trying to say something, but Wooyoung wouldn’t let him.

‘You really thought I was going to live with you until our very ends? In what kind of Disney movie do you think you are?’

‘Wooyoung, but—‘

‘Shut it!’ Wooyoung pointed his finger at him warningly when he saw San trying to get up from the floor. ‘Don’t you fucking move!’

Wooyoung felt his heart pounding against his chest. He felt as though it was going to jump out of his rib cage. It was difficult for him to breathe, but he still tried to come across confidently. He couldn’t show any weakness. If what San had told him was true, he wouldn’t ever try to hurt Wooyoung. This was his only way. His only chance to get out of the apartment alive.

San had stopped moving, he finally took his eyes off of Wooyoung and let his head sink. Wooyoung couldn’t look him in the face anymore as San’s hair blocked the view. It was silent for a few seconds. Wooyoung didn’t know what to say next, he was thinking about his next move but he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

‘Do you really think this is what it seems like?’

Wooyoung let his hand sink. He was confused. ‘What... are you talking about?’

‘Don’t get fooled by this insincere affection your parents showed in that appeal. This isn’t real. It’s what they want you to believe, Wooyoung.’

Wooyoung shook his head. That wasn’t true. Yeah, sure, his parents never really were there for him. They never really cared about him or about what he was doing. But after a long, long time, Wooyoung had seen his mother cry again. She was crying because she missed her son. Her only son. The son who was gone, the son whose birthday it was. ‘You’re lying.’

‘No, Wooyoung. _They_ are.’ San looked up again. When Wooyoung gazed into his eyes, San somehow seemed so different. As though he was facing a completely different person, as though someone had flipped a switch inside of him.

‘You don’t know my parents.’ Wooyoung got angry. How dared he?

‘But do you?’ San stood up. This time, Wooyoung let him. Probably because Wooyoung was shocked. He couldn’t to anything about it. San had never acted like that before. He’d never talked back, never said something so bold. ‘You only see what you want to see. You want your parents to care. But, I’m sorry to say this, Wooyoung. They don’t. They don’t care.’

Wooyoung slowly shook his head while San approached him once again. San was talking absolute bullshit! He‘d seen his mother cry on TV, too! So what the hell was he talking about? Was he suggesting that they added the tears afterwards? Absolutely fucking ridiculous. Nonsense. San was trying to gaslight him. Wooyoung wasn’t dumb. He knew what he was trying to do, simply because Wooyoung used to do that to other people as well. Manipulate them. Try to get into their heads. But this wasn’t working, San. Mission failed, you could stop now!

Wooyoung felt his knees weaken when he felt San’s hands cupping Wooyoung’s cheeks. But he couldn’t push him away. Why couldn’t he? It felt as though San had sucked all of Wooyoung’s energy out of him with his touch.

‘It’s okay they don’t care. You don’t deserve people like them in your life. That’s why I am here. That’s why I chose you. I can be the person who cares. I can give you whatever you want. I can give you what you long for so desperately! I, and I alone can give you all the attention you need. I’d do anything for you, Wooyoung.’

There it was again, San’s weird behavior. Just when Wooyoung thought San had somehow changed, the old San was back at it again. Creeping the shit out of him. 

‘Anything? You’d do anything?’

San nodded.

‘Then let me go.’

San did let go. He let go of Wooyoung’s cheeks. He stepped back from Wooyoung, he looked hurt. After all these days Wooyoung had spent next to him, even when combining all those days, Wooyoung had never seen San go through such a variety of emotions. Such intensive emotions. But then again, Wooyoung had never felt anything like this before either. This was new to him as well. He was going through so much different things, he was feeling sensations he never knew existed. Some of them made him tremble in fear. Some of them even exited him a little, some exited him a lot. And he didn’t know what to think or do about that. But he was trying to get away from them. And he was trying to get away from San. Maybe San was the one making him feel all these emotions? Maybe it wasn’t the situation he was in, but the person right in front of him? But what emotions did this mixture involve? Fear? Anger? What if there was some affection? Wooyoung did at some point like San. As a friend. Maybe not even as a friend, but he accepted him. So why was he now trying so hard to push him away? Or was Wooyoung trying to protect himself from something he didn’t want to happen?

San was pressing his lips together. Was he getting angry now?

‘I don’t understand how you can’t see this. They’re trying to fool you, Wooyoung. How could you trust these people again when they were the ones who once crushed your precious, little heart? Are you okay with them hurting you again? Are you okay with them disappointing you again? You don’t deserve that, you need to understand that.’

He was lying.

‘As soon as you go back, everything will be the same again. It won’t be like you imagine it to be, like you wish it to be. Maybe you should wake up, too.’

Liar.

‘You’re too good for these people. They don’t deserve another chance. After two days, everything will go back to normal again. And you will start suffocating again. Because there won’t be air for you to breathe. And you know that. You just don’t want to see it.’

Liar...! He was lying. He was, wasn’t he? Oh, sure he was! Of course he was! He had to be lying. He wasn’t right. It wouldn’t just go back to normal again. People were missing him! People were looking after him! Wooyoung’s heart pounded in his ears.

‘Who even said they would believe you?’

What?

Wooyoung felt like his heart had stopped pounding. Did he understand him correctly?

‘Did you listen closely to what your parents were saying?’ San looked at him. ‘They didn’t beg a possible perpetrator to hand you over. They didn’t beg for him to let you free. They didn’t imply with anything they said that they believed you were kidnapped. They didn’t mention a stalker. Do you know what they believe? That you just ran away from home for some time. That’s what they think.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘It’s not?’ San took the phone. ‘You want me to play it to you again?’

Wooyoung blinked a few times, shaking his head. ‘You don’t need to! Just because they didn’t say something about it, doesn’t mean they don’t believe it. Maybe they weren’t allowed to say that! You’re just trying to win me back over, I know what you’re trying to do, San! But it’s not going to work. I’m going to leave now, so let me go!’

San slowly nodded. ‘Fine.’

Huh?

‘You can go.’ He put the phone back onto the table. ‘But only thinking about how they’re going to crush your heart again rips mine apart. I truly hope you’ll be happy, Wooyoung. I truly hope so.’

Wooyoung watched him as he took out a cute bag from behind the table, then forcing it into Wooyoung’s hands.

‘Happy birthday, Wooyoung.’ Their eyes met. ‘At least don’t freeze when you go outside. You can take whatever you find in this apartment. It’s all yours. And then you’re free to go. I won’t hold you.’

Wooyoung quickly glanced inside the bag, it seemed to be clothes. Was that his birthday present from San? But Wooyoung said he didn’t want anything. It’s been quite a while since he last got something different from money. If would feel refreshing if Wooyoung wasn’t feeling so freaking depressed right now. He wasn’t sure what he should do, what he should say. If he should say something. Maybe it was better if he didn’t say anything. He just looked at San and watched him go out of the kitchen. It didn’t take long until he heard San open the door and leave the apartment. He was all alone now. Alone with his thoughts and alone with his gift. Alone in his stalker’s apartment but together with the permission to leave. 

Yes, leave.

*

He inhaled the cold air. This was a nightmare. Ah, San had always known that. It was from the minute Wooyoung had stepped into his apartment for the first time that San knew it was a cruel nightmare he was in. He would soon wake up in his cold bed. Alone, in his empty apartment. Without Wooyoung. But San wanted to believe that it was going to be fine, because then he could go back to how things were two weeks ago. Even if the beautiful pictures he’d seen in this nightmare would torment him. Wooyoung’s pretty smile. The picture of the sun’s light shining in his beautiful face. The feeling of his touch as his hand embraced San’s hand. His messy hair after waking up. This curious expression on his face when he asked San questions. This everything will soon become nothing more than a memory. A memory that then would become vague and eventually vanish, just like the memory of his mother’s face. Every day it becomes more and more blurry. Someday it will disappear completely, and the memory of Wooyoung’s touch with it. 

But then San would continue with life, maybe. He would continue to follow Wooyoung again. He would continue to take pictures. Maybe leave him notes. He would do that if this really had only been a dream. But sadly, San knew better. Even though he was feeling out of touch with reality, he knew that what had happened in his apartment just now had really happened. It was real. Too real. How was he supposed to live on now? Was he ever going to see Wooyoung again? What if Wooyoung leads the police to him, telling them San had kidnapped him, held him hostage. Would he do that? Would Wooyoung really do that to him? And if he did, would San just oblige? 

Of course he would. Anything for Wooyoung. If that meant people would believe Wooyoung’s stalker story, so be it. San would be happy to make his dream come true. Even if that meant going to jail. Even if that meant never seeing him again. Wooyoung deserved to be believed. In the end, it was true that Wooyoung had been stalked. It was true that San didn’t want to let him go. In fact, San would do anything to keep him inside the apartment forever. But if that made Wooyoung miserable and unhappy, why do that? San only ever wished the best for Wooyoung. That was why he was doing the things he was doing. He just realized how miserable Wooyoung’s life was because of the people around him. San knew that feeling too well. And since it had already been too late to help himself, he was sure he could’ve at least helped someone else. And this someone else was Wooyoung. Poor, poor Wooyoung.

San wasn’t angry with him. It wasn’t Wooyoung’s fault. It wasn’t his fault that he had the desire to go home. It was only natural for him to believe in his parents, in his friends. The wish to be accepted and acknowledged by them was so big that it completely blinded him from the truth. It hurt San to see him like that, because he knew that Wooyoung was going to be disappointed by them again. And San couldn’t do anything about it. He could just watch, and maybe not even that because he wasn’t sure if he was able to ever see Wooyoung again after what had happened today. No, San wasn’t angry with him. He wasn’t angry that Wooyoung had lied to him. He knew why he had done that. He understood that Wooyoung had been scared, that maybe he also didn’t want to hurt San’s feelings. And he appreciated that. The fact that it still hurt, that it tore San’s crumpled heart apart again wasn’t Wooyoung’s intention nor fault. Just consequences that couldn’t have been prevented, no matter what.

San was rather angry with himself. Because he knew he could’ve done a much better job. If he had put a little more effort in this whole situation, maybe Wooyoung hadn’t left him. If he had showed him more affection, more love. If he had given him more attention. If he had done more for him. He should’ve told him more about why his parents were like that. That he didn’t deserve to be treated by them like that. He should’ve told him what wonderful human being he was. How beautiful he was. How smart and sweet. Yes, San believed that he could’ve prevented this from happening if he’d just done a better job. But this just showed him again how useless he was. How he’d failed to save someone’s beautiful life again.

San wished to go home, too. He wished he could go and see his mother now. Be with her. Hold her hand. Ask her what he’d done wrong. What he could’ve done better. Maybe she would tell him it was what he deserved. Maybe she would apologize, as she always used to do. Maybe she would say nothing and just caress him. Whatever she would do or say, San would accept it. He understood Wooyoung. He understood his wish to see his mother. San was cruel for wanting to keep him to himself. If San saw his mother, he would run to her without hesitation as well. _Oh, San. How could you be so cruel?_

He had sat down on a bench in a nearby park. It was cold, it was so cold. San hadn’t even bothered to take a jacket. What did it matter anyway? Maybe he could see this as some kind of punishment. Maybe it would also make him feel numb from the pain he was currently in. He observed his own breath every time he exhaled, he was trying to get distracted from his disruptive thoughts. The sun was shining, only few clouds were visible, yet it was so cold. Seeing the clear sky, San suddenly remembered his grandma and how she’d passed away. San was devastated for a long time after it had happened. She was his favorite grandma and even though she sometimes hit San with her slippers when he was being naughty, she was the best grandma ever. And she always made the best food. He remembered how he wouldn’t stop crying after her passing when his mother told him that whenever he missed his granny, he should look into the sky and he would be able to see her. San believed her. On clear days, he’d spend hours looking for her and he would concentrate so much on it that he believed he could actually see her sometimes. He’d told his mother once, she said she could see her, too. After San’s mother then passed away, San always feared looking into the sky. He was scared he wouldn’t see her.

And now he also wouldn’t see Wooyoung anymore. Not next to him in bed. Not sitting on the kitchen chair. Maybe San should really kidnap someone and keep them forever. But then again, he didn’t want anyone else besides Wooyoung. Wooyoung was the only one for him. Everything he had. And now, what was left for him? Canned beer and a birthday cake. That’s what was left.

San didn’t know for how long he was outside. At some point he’d started walking around so it would become a bit warmer. Didn’t help. He’d walked past some stores. He’d seen so many things he could’ve bought Wooyoung. Things that maybe would’ve made him happier. Oh, he hoped Wooyoung was wearing something warm on his way home. He hoped he had a safe trip home. Ah, he should’ve told him how he could get home. He should’ve shown him the way. _At least that you could’ve done for him after failing so miserably! But no, you only ever thought about yourself. How could you even live with yourself?_

Yeah, how could he?

He was sad he hadn’t been able to make today a wonderful birthday for Wooyoung. He could’ve done so much better. But maybe, when Wooyoung arrived home, they would throw a big party for him. A party with hundreds of people. A party full of joy and happiness. He was so sorry.

San walked up the stairs to his apartment door. Usually, he’d count the steps. It just was something that automatically happened as soon as he took the stairs, without even thinking about it. But today, his mind was blank. He had thought about everything and anything while he was out. He had thought about so much stuff that now, his head was empty. There was nothing to think about anymore. Would he ever be able to think about anything ever again? He wasn’t sure.

He opened the door to his apartment, took off his shoes and then leaned his forehead against the door as he closed it. He sighed. He was freezing, he was only barely feeling his fingers and toes. So what now? He turned to the living room as he pressed his hands against his neck to warm them. His eyes hovered over the room.

Then his heart skipped a beat. What the _hell_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	13. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was thiiiiis close to postpone this week’s chapter because I fell pretty sick, but in the end I still made it. I hope the chapter is still good. You guys, please stay healthy, you gotta promise me ><
> 
> I’m not going to hold you any longer, but please don’t forget to check the end note! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> Now, go, go!
> 
> (Credits to the owner of the pic!)

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 12, Lullaby**

**제 12 장 , 자장가**

‘San...?’

Oh, this nightmare. When was it going to stop? He knew something like this was going to happen. He knew this just wouldn’t stop and let go of him, no, this was going to torment him for a long, long time. He knew he was going to see things that were not actually there. This was a dream San did not wish to be a part of. A dream he was not prepared to be a a part of. He was sure, a hundred percent sure that whatever he was seeing in front of him was not real. It was his mind playing tricks on him because he had gone insane and he hadn’t even noticed. He was feeling detached from reality, from himself and from everything that was going on around him. He was not sure about anything anymore. Was it really November 26th? Was it even winter? Was he currently really in his apartment? Was he even alive? Maybe this was what afterlife felt like. If so, he did not like it at all. It seemed sweet and indulgent at first but actually it was pure chaos. But what was he supposed to do now? Just pretend everything was normal? But nothing was normal.

San could not moves his eyes away from what he was seeing in the living room. He pressed his back against the apartment door, his eyes widened. Maybe it was the cold? Maybe he had been out for too long and the cold had made him delusional. He pressed his cold palms against his eyes, rubbed, then slightly moved them away. Still there. He shook his head. This could not possibly be real.

‘San. ’

There it was again! This quiet but firm voice. A voice he was so familiar with, unarguably the most beautiful and innocent voice he had ever heard. Was it a devious production of his mind, just like everything else he was experiencing in that moment? Did he hear this voice to torment himself even more? But while everything around him felt so fake, this voice he heard rang vividly in his ears. 

The way he saw Wooyoung in front of him, lying on the blank and cold floor as though it was the most comfortable bed he had ever been in was an image San would have loved to see a few hours ago, before everything had started to go downhill. But now, seeing him like that while the evening sun shone down on him in the most beautiful way possible made San’s heart ache. Did he really deserve that? What in the world had he done that was so gruesome that he deserved having his heart being ripped out of his rib cage and being stepped on? Had he really been such a bad human being? If so, fine, punish him. But first, please, let him know what the hell he had done wrong. 

Wooyoung—or whatever ghost or spirit it was that he saw in front of him—rolled onto his belly without taking his glance away from San’s eyes. He somehow looked angry, maybe also sad.

‘How could you, hm?’ Wooyoung pressed his palms against the floor and pushed himself up on all fours. ‘How could you just leave me alone like that on my birthday?’

San pressed his body against the door as Wooyoung came crawling closer to him. What was he going to do to him? Was he going to hurt him? Not like San didn’t deserve it, he surely did, but it was not like he wanted to be hurt. Not by someone like Wooyoung—even if it probably only was an illusion. And it did not take long until Wooyoung had reached him, looked up on him like a puppy looking at its owner who forgot to put food into the bowl before leaving. A disappointed look. San hated it, even though he found that Wooyoung still looked beautiful.

‘After all, it seems as though you were the one lying all the time.’

San’s eyes widened in shock. He did not manage to utter anything more than a silent, breathy ‘what?’.

Wooyoung pouted. He grabbed onto San’s shirt for support and got onto his feet, looking San dead in the eyes.

‘You’re the one who’s so obsessed with me, aren’t you? Yet all those words you’ve written about me in your diaries, they don’t seem as though they were written by you.’ He pressed his finger against San’s chest. ‘Sure, I know you care a lot about me. But I can’t feel a thing from your so called obsession.’

San kept staring at Wooyoung. He was still debating whether this was real or not (he’d not yet come to a conclusion), but he did not even know whether he wanted this to be real. Because if it was—what the hell was just happening?

‘I’m not sure if you really like me as much as you said you did. I don’t know if I should believe your diary entries.’

Oh, that was not true! San was not lying, he had never done such thing. But judging by how scared Wooyoung used to get when San came near him, he thought it was better to just keep his thoughts and urges to himself. Not obsessed with him! As if that was possible, as if anyone on this planet could not be obsessed with such a beautiful creature like Wooyoung.

‘What are you doing here?’ San could not think of anything else to say. He could defend himself and say he had never lied to him, but of what use was that if in the end, Wooyoung turned out to be a mere illusion fabricated by San’s memories? ‘Why are you still here?’

He heard Wooyoung sigh. Wooyoung had stepped back a few inches and rested his back against the wall. Now he was avoiding San’s eyes. He was facing the floor and it took him a while to answer.

‘Because you were right.’

San tilted his head. ‘About what?’

‘About just everything. About the fact that I didn’t know whether my family or even just one single person would believe me. About the fact that after two days, everything would go back to normal again. That people probably didn’t care.’ Wooyoung then looked up again. ‘It would be dumb to leave now. Leaving now would give me the same results as if I’d never left in the first place.’

Slowly, San was seeing things clearer. This was real. This was Wooyoung in front of him. Wooyoung was _real_. Everything that had happened was real. And Wooyoung had not left him, even after San told him he was free to go. San actually just wanted to smile now, to be happy. Maybe that meant something, he thought. But then he realized that maybe it was not so good that Wooyoung was still here. That just meant that they would spend another week or something together before Wooyoung would have another breakdown and then, everything would repeat itself. San was not ready for that. He could barely deal with something like this to happen once. But twice? It would kill him.

‘So you’re just going to wait and then leave me when you’re sure your parents will believe you?’ San gulped. ‘Wooyoung, I can’t do this.’

San looked at Wooyoung. San was not some kind of machine. He had a heart, too. And maybe even a limit. San loved Wooyoung. He loved him with everything he had. He would do everything for him. That was why San was not able to deal with something like this again. He could not deal with this wave of emotions that completely flooded his mind, destroying everything inside of him. The words Wooyoung had said to him, how he had pushed him away, it hurt. A lot. If San ever had to deal with something like this again, Wooyoung could just go ahead and kill San right away. It would have the same effect. He did not know how he would react if Wooyoung begged him to let him go once again. He did not know whether he would let him leave a second time. And he did not know how far he would go to prevent Wooyoung from leaving.

‘If you were to leave me again I—I’d drop dead. I already don’t know how to deal with this right now so please, Wooyoung, I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me.’

San’s heart ached. He did not want Wooyoung to leave, but he had to let him go. If he wanted to live on, he had to release him from this tight cage. The cage that bore San’s name. And the more he was forced to look at Wooyoung, the worse the pain would get. It was better for him, for both, actually, if Wooyoung just left.

‘I’m afraid I can’t go.’

‘Don’t say this. Don’t be like that again.’ San clenched his teeth. He walked over to Wooyoung, pressing his palm against the wall next to Wooyoung’s head. ‘I’ve heard you say this so many times. Yet you didn’t mean any of these words.’

‘That’s right. I lied to you, San.’ Wooyoung bit his lips. ‘I lied to you because I thought this was temporary. I thought I could just walk out of this door and the whole world would look at me and everyone would fall onto their knees, crying tears of joy because I was finally back. But that’s not true, right? You said so yourself. No one cared. So why should I ever want to leave again?’

‘How can I be sure you’re not lying to me again?’

Wooyoung smiled a little. How could he smile?!

‘Oh, you can’t. It’s on you. But I won’t go. And even if you drag me out, there’s no way I’m gonna go back to my parents.’

San blinked. He didn’t understand and he was confused. Okay, he accepted the fact that Wooyoung was still here, that he was no illusion, no ghost whatsoever, but Wooyoung was now begging him to let him stay? What the hell was going on? In the morning he begged him to let go!

‘I can’t see how you changed your mind so quickly.’

‘Quickly?’ Wooyoung snorted. ‘With you being gone for at least a few hours I had enough time to think. Look, San. I can’t help but feel like this sometimes. I can’t help but miss my family, even after how they treated me. Sometimes I just really want to go back or turn back time. But the thing is that even if that was possible, I wouldn’t be happy for too long. They would just continue to disappoint and neglect me, like they always did. I can’t say I won’t think about leaving anymore, because I sure will. But that’s where you have to ensure me that it’s not worth going. That I don’t have to leave because all the attention I need I already get from you.’

That... seemed plausible, didn’t it? It made sense. Of course Wooyoung missed his parents. San missed his mother, too. He missed her every day and every night. And with Wooyoung’s parents still being alive, he still had the chance to see them. It was normal for him to have the urge to go and see them, even though he did not in particular like them. For a long time, San would catch himself missing his father, even though he hated him to his guts. But still, it was his dad. It was okay to miss your parents, even after they did horrible things. It was okay and Wooyoung therefore had all the right to miss his mum and his dad. San should’ve been the last one to judge him. And there again, in the end it was San who was wrong.

‘So you’re saying that... as long as I care for you and give you all the attention I have, you won’t leave?’

Wooyoung nodded. ‘I spend hours alone in this room and I don’t even have a TV or something. I have so much time to have thoughts like wanting to leave or missing my parents. If there was something to distract me from these thoughts, I wouldn’t think of them anymore.’

San felt Wooyoung’s hands on his chest, gently stroking over the fabric of his shirt. San hoped Wooyoung couldn’t feel how fast his heart was pounding. 

‘I told you once that I don’t want you to hold back your affection because I might get scared. I said I will tell you when I don’t like something. So don’t hold back. Understood?’

San could not help but nod. What was he supposed to do, hm? Say no? Tell him he did not like that? No. Because he liked it. He loved this. This meant that if San really showed Wooyoung how much he meant to him, how much he loved him, Wooyoung would never ever leave him. They would get this wonderful Happy End that San longed for. They could become happy together. San wanted to devote his whole life to Wooyoung and if this was not the best opportunity he could get, he did not know what was. San would get Wooyoung and Wooyoung would get all the attention he needed to survive. They would use each other in the sweetest way possible. So yes, San was fine with it. He was so fine with it, he could actually cry.

‘Good.’ Wooyoung smiled at him. This wonderful, precious smile that San thought he was never going to see again was now directed at him and only at him. He felt Wooyoung’s hands wrap around his waist as he came closer, eventually pulling San into a hug. A hug. Oh, it has been so long. When was the last time he had hugged a person like that? He could not quite remember. But he knew that was not relevant. All he wanted to focus on now was Wooyoung. Wooyoung’s touch. Wooyoung’s warm body pressing against his own, cold body. San slowly put his arms around Wooyoung to pull him closer. If this wasn’t the best feeling in the whole world, San did not know what was. He could not describe the emotions he was feeling, simply because there were too many different kinds. But what he knew was that there only were good emotions. Happy emotions. Emotions he wanted to feel for the rest of his life.

He felt Wooyoung’s hands crawl up on his neck, then gently stroking his head.

‘You’re so cold.’ Wooyoung whispered against his neck, San could feel the goosebumps spread all over his body. 

But no, Wooyoung. He was not cold. In fact, it was so hot, San had never felt a heat like that before. He was a bit skeptical yes, he could not say for sure that Wooyoung was not going to repeat what he had done today, but if San put enough effort into himself and into pleasing Wooyoung in any way possible, it should be fine. It had to be.

‘Here you go.’

San sat down opposite to him and held up a can of beer. It has been a while since Wooyoung had had some alcohol, but today it did not feel wrong or illegal. He had become an adult after all. And it felt good.

They were in the living room together, Wooyoung had spread out a blanket so both of their asses would not get numb from sitting on a hard floor the whole time, and San brought the beer and the cake. It was a really good cake, Wooyoung had to admit that. He even ate more than once piece and again, it felt good.

At first, they ate and drank without exchanging too much words. San was probably processing everything that had happened today, and Wooyoung was doing the same. He still was not a hundred percent sure whether he had made the right decision, there probably was a high chance that it was the wrong one, but who knew. Maybe it was not. After San had left the apartment, Wooyoung really almost left. He had grabbed a jacket, put on his shoes and wrapped his hands around the doorknob. And then it hit him. What if San was right? What if what he had told Wooyoung was the truth? He could not deny the fact that his parents did not actually mention a kidnapper or anything like that in their speech. And if he actually ran away and came home, who assured him that anyone would believe his story? He had no evidence. Sure, he could show San’s apartment to the police, he could even rat San out. But did he want that? Because what if San turned on him, telling the police he did not know him. Or what if he actually told them the truth? That Wooyoung had literally begged San to let him live with him. And eventually—because Wooyoung was known for his imaginative lies—people would end up believing San. His parents included. So Wooyoung had to choose. Either go back to his parents and continue living his (too) normal life, or staying here with San who could give him everything he actually needed. Looking at it like that, the decision Wooyoung had eventually taken seemed plausible, didn’t it?

Maybe it was not only the attention that kept Wooyoung in this apartment. Maybe it was also the curiosity he was holding about San. Something inside Wooyoung kept asking for more information about him, simply because he seemed so mysterious and never really talked about himself unless he was asked specifically. It made Wooyoung want to find the right questions, questions that could give him answers to what demons were slumbering inside of San. 

And maybe, just maybe he found a liking to San.

But that really only was a big maybe. It was probably just Wooyoung not really seeing San in front of him but instead a really huge bag of attention. Maybe it was San’s obsession with Wooyoung that excited him. The way he talked about him in his diary entries, the way he took pictures of him. Maybe that was what Wooyoung actually liked, because remember, just a few hours ago, Wooyoung wanted nothing more than for San to get out of his eyesight. But still, sometimes, Wooyoung was wondering what kind of thoughts were going through San’s mind when their eyes met, when he saw Wooyoung lie in front of him, next to him, when holding hands. Sometimes Wooyoung wished for a reaction from San. That was why he was so angry at first, simply because Wooyoung did not feel loved enough. Was that the right word to describe it? Maybe not. But Wooyoung needed that. He needed to see how he could make San feel. And he wanted to see how his own body would react to that.

Wooyoung slammed the empty beer can onto the floor while letting out a long sigh. That felt good. The cake was good, the beer was good. And San’s eyes not leaving Wooyoung’s eyes for a single second felt good, too.

‘I can feel the beer. Can you?’ Wooyoung laid down on the floor, resting his head on his arm. He felt a bit dizzy, but not much. It was just right. It was enough to make him feel happy and leave him without worries.

‘A little bit.’ San retorted, still looking at Wooyoung. He still seemed a bit lost in his thoughts, Wooyoung understood that. Wooyoung knew that he hurt him. But Wooyoung had felt the same the past couple of days. Did that make them even? He did not know. It probably was not the same pain both of them went through, but that did not matter. They were both having a difficult time, but it was going to be fine. Because San had Wooyoung back. He would survive this.

‘This has got to be the best birthday I’ve had in years.’

‘Even after what happened before?’

Wooyoung nodded and smiled a little. ‘Trust me.’

‘I do.’

For another moment, both remained silent until San also finished his beer.

‘Have you looked inside the bag I got you?’ San asked him while he put away the empty beer cans and plates.

‘I did. I really like the clothes. You know my style.’

‘You should try them on to see if they fit.’

He nodded and got up, just to return with the birthday present a few seconds later. He sat down again, put the bag next to him and then continued to take off his shirt. He wondered whether San was watching him while doing that. He glimpsed at San for a moment, their eyes met, then Wooyoung let his shirt slide to the ground. He could already feel the cold embrace his naked skin, he quickly wanted to change. 

And to be fair, the hoody fit perfectly. He also put on the jacket and to his surprise, they even went well together. 

‘What do you think?’ Wooyoung stood up and grinned at San. And there it was, finally, a tiny smile.

‘You look gorgeous.’ He said. ‘They fit perfectly, don’t they?’

Wooyoung nodded. Yes, that felt good. Not just wearing brand new (and stylish) clothes, but also getting compliments. It has been a while since he last got to hear something like that, usually he would hear Yeosang say those kind of things. Oh, Yeosang. He wondered what he was doing right now. He wondered whether he was ever thinking about Wooyoung.

Wooyoung blinked. Ah, he’d sworn he would not ever think about him anymore. Why waste precious thoughts on someone like Yeosang? He was not worth it. Wooyoung did not want to know what he was doing or whether he was thinking about Wooyoung. He did not want to know anything about him.

‘Wooyoung?’

His eyes shot up. ‘Huh?’

‘The tags. Let me remove the tags.’

He nodded quickly and then brushed the jacket off his body to give it to San. He also took off his hoody and removed the tags on it himself.

‘Thank you.’ Wooyoung then said after carefully folding the hoody and putting it aside. ‘I really like them.’

San just nodded and smiled at him. ‘You should wear something, it’s cold.’

Yes, it was cold. But Wooyoung enjoyed being shirtless. It made him feel a bit freer. He got rid of everything that blocked Wooyoung’s way to San. Then he came closer and decided to climb onto San’s lap. He felt San’s fingers quickly dig into his thighs, maybe he did not expect Wooyoung to do something like this. But then again, Wooyoung did not expect himself to do this, either. But he wanted it.

He wrapped his arms around San’s neck, pressing his body tighter against San’s. ‘You could heat me up a little.’

Wooyoung did not need to see San’s face to know how shocked he must have been. He knew it by feeling San’s chest moving unevenly as he struggled to keep his breath calm. This was what Wooyoung was talking about. These were the kind of reactions he wanted to see. Even if it were subtle things, they confirmed San’s obsession with Wooyoung. His love for him. Knowing that Wooyoung could make San feel like this by just sitting on his lap and hugging him made him wonder what other reactions he could trigger. Wooyoung then felt San’s hands trace over his back with a cold, hesitant touch. 

‘You have goosebumps.’ He heard San whisper.

‘That’s not from the cold.’

Wooyoung lifted his head to look at San. He giggled. Wooyoung had never done anything like that before. Sure, he had his fantasies and stuff, he had seen movies and other people do things like this, but he had never tried it out himself. He had never had a girlfriend or boyfriend before. It was not like he did not want to, he really wanted to know how it felt when seomeone gave him affection. Not just his daily dose of attention, but real love. But something like that had never occurred to him before. It was hard to find someone who truly liked you and at the same time you had to like that person back. Lots of people liked Wooyoung and wanted to be with him, but it had never been the other way around. At least not in a romantic or somewhat sexual way. Wooyoung wanted to be with someone up to his standards, but then again that person could not be in any way better or prettier than him. Obviously. He did not know whether San actually was up to his standards, if he had ever approached him if they had not met under these kind of circumstances, but what did it matter? Wooyoung was sick of only ever seeing other people becoming entangled in each other’s arms, caressing, kissing, and loving each other. Maybe, no, they most likely did not even love each other, at least that was the case with porn, but during these few minutes they only focused on each other (or a third party involved). And Wooyoung wanted that. Wooyoung did not necessarily need love or need the other person to be up to his standards. He just needed someone he could focus on and someone who focused on him. Having eyes only for each other. 

And San was perfect for that. At that time, Wooyoung could not think of any other person who could fit better than San. Besides Wooyoung cloning himself, but that would be weird. And things sure as hell could have been worse, because San was no sleazy, horny, old dude. He was actually good-looking. From what Wooyoung had seen San had a nice body, a pretty face. He was around his age, maybe even as inexperienced as Wooyoung himself. And the best part: he was obsessed with Wooyoung. And since they were going to spend a lot of time together in the future, Wooyoung had all the time to gain experience together with San.

‘I’m tired.’ Wooyoung then whispered. Both really had a rough day and it was probably the best to just get to sleep. Tomorrow, everything will be the same as the past days again, except much better. Because San was going to be himself and Wooyoung would enjoy it.

San nodded and they lied down together. He took the thickest blanket he could find within the reach of his hands to wrap it around Wooyoung. 

‘Do you really not want to wear anything? You’re going to freeze.’

‘I’m only going to freeze if you don’t keep me warm.’ Wooyoung smiled, moving closer to San. He felt San’s arms embracing him even tighter, softly pressing his head against San’s chest. There it was again, the fast beating of his heart. But this time it was soothing, it almost sounded like a lullaby that was dedicated to Wooyoung, with his name as the title. 

‘Good night, Wooyoung.’

He smiled. ‘Good night, San.’

And he fell asleep almost in an instant and to his surprise, with no thought that expressed any kind of regret or sadness. There was no wish to go home, no wish for San to distance himself from Wooyoung. It was just San’s heartbeat singing Wooyoung to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did y’all enjoy the chapter?? I sure hope so. Before you leave, I’d love to know who your favorite ATEEZ ships are or which ships you’d love to read about!
> 
> Oh, no, no. It’s not like I’m planning anything, he, hehe, he. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> So let me know and we’ll see each other next week, woohoo!!  
Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	14. A Familiar Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys!! Thank you so much for letting me know your favorite ships! You guys named a bunch!!  
Feel free to always add the ones you like! ^^
> 
> I was thinking about the number of chapters for this fic, but I can’t really tell. I’m guessing 25+?  
I’m not sure. But I guess that’s not too important (says me, who is not planning in advance, which is not good) ^^ Fact is, I’m gonna stick around here for quite a while. 
> 
> I hope you have fun reading ♡
> 
> (Credits to the owner of the pic♡)

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 13, A Familiar Face**

**제 13 장 , 익숙한 얼굴**

‘Honestly, I can’t believe we’re doing this.‘ 

Yunho pouted, crossing his arms like a small child while sinking into the car seat. He felt as though his mother was forcing him to go to the dentist. Spoiler alert, he hated the dentist. In fact, he hated going to any kind of doctor. His earliest memory of going to a dentist was biting him, kicking his assistant in the shin and then getting dragged back into the treatment room by his mother after his attempt to escape failed. He still got that little present in the end, though. But all in all, it was horribly traumatic and even though he had never been to the place where they were currently going to, it triggered the same feelings inside of him. 

‘Well, do you have a better idea?’

Silence. Yunho opened is mouth in an attempt to answer while quickly trying to think of something, but obviously nothing crossed his mind. He closed his mouth again, accepting his defeat. Seonghwa paid a quick glance to Yunho before focusing on the streets again. 

‘Thought so. Look, it’s not like I’m happy to be doing this. I’m resorting to this simply because we don’t seem to have another choice. You can gladly join the other officers who are currently searching for the boy in every corner of the city, as though they might find something.’

God, how he hated the fact that Detective Park was right. Of course he wanted to do everything he could to find Wooyoung, but was there really no other way? Did they really have to do this? Yunho repeatedly flipped the little business card in his hand, as though he was expecting to find anything new on it. No, there really was not much they could to otherwise. The police was searching the whole city, they had talked several times with everyone related to the case, checked CCTV, searched Wooyoung’s room. They were answering every call from random citizens that claimed to have seen the missing boy somewhere and checked every location but never found anything. His parents made a public appeal, begging their son to come back, even though just a few days ago they did not even notice he was gone and yet Wooyoung had not come back. He had not returned and they were not much closer to solving the case compared to when they had just been assigned to it. It frustrated Yunho. He knew that sometimes cases went cold, sometimes you just could not solve it no matter how hard you tried but he felt helpless. He felt as though they were missing something and he wished they were trying harder. He was glad that Detective Park at least tried to come up with new ideas and did not just treat the case like a missing cat enquiry like he did in the beginning, but what use was that when they never managed to make a move forward? At least it felt like they were doing something, it was still better than sitting at their desks at the station, re-reading the case files over and over again and finding nothing.

‘I thought you were the one desperately trying to find any clues.’

Yeah, that was true. Yunho sighed. ‘Yes. But not from him.’

The car stopped a few seconds after, both stepped out and looked upon the building in front of them. It was fairly tall but it did not look pleasant at all. The walls had cracks and were dirty, the windows did not let you see through them, and the door was plastered with posters and flyers. Wooyoung’s missing person poster was one of them and it was glued above all the other ones, immediately catching your eyes when passing by. And next to the door there was a little sign that looked similar to the business card, displaying name and profession. 

_ Kim Hongjoong _

_ Professional Photographer and Freelance Journalist  _

And underneath the sign there were some of the services said person provided, including photo shoots of several kinds, passport photos, event photographing and more, and a big colorful sticker stuck right next to the sign reminded you that there was up to 30 % discount on half of his services but only until the end of the year. How indulging. 

Eventually, Seonghwa was the one to pull himself together and make the first move by opening the screeching door. Yunho reluctantly followed. A sign advised them to go through the first door on the left after taking the stairs if they were looking for the photographer. Seonghwa knocked, they waited a few seconds, and then he opened the door. They entered a room that looked like any other office room, the only things that hinted at the fact that this was the workplace of a photographer and journalist were the many pictures on the walls (Yunho assumed they were taken by Hongjoong), some camera equipment and a pinboard that looked similar to those you could see at police offices, displaying all the evidence and facts about an ongoing case. And right in the middle, Wooyoung’s poster and another picture of him right next to it, a picture Yunho had also seen before. And in front of them, with his eyes glued to the screen of a laptop and a lollipop in his mouth, there was Hongjoong. He was wearing a colorful, puffy jacket that was zipped up all the way to the top with light jeans which made him look like he just popped out of a 90s movie. When his head turned to them, he frowned for a second, then he transformed his pouty lips into this annoyingly big smile, showing every single one of his damn teeth with his lollipop stuck in between.

‘Now, this sure is a surprise.’ He turned to the detectives and leaned back in his chair. ‘I guess you guys need my help?’

Yunho instinctively let out a sigh and made an attempt to turn around and leave again, but Seonghwa was quick enough to grab his wrist and hinder him from doing so. He decided to be the one to speak.

‘I’m afraid so. We’re either missing something or this boy vanished into thin air. We came to see what you found out.’

Hongjoong’s eyes wandered around the room. Then he nodded. ‘I’m not sure what you guys already know, but I’d be more than happy to give you all the information I have.’

‘Thank you, we—’

‘Take a seat.’

Seonghwa blinked and nodded, then hesitantly took a seat at the table right next to the entrance. Yunho decided to stay right where he was, maybe if he did not sit down from the beginning, they could leave quicker. 

‘So, we know that—’

‘Tea? Coffee? Water?’

Yunho glanced at Seonghwa who looked at the photographer with big eyes, lips pressed together tightly. If Yunho had not been so annoyed to be there himself, he maybe would have found this funny. His boss getting cut off several times by Sunny Boy Hongjoong? Hilarious. Seonghwa trying to stay calm? Even more entertaining. But Yunho himself was annoyed, so seeing his boss being interrupted over and over again made even him angry. But—even though Seonghwa clearly had some anger issues—he just forced a little smile and decided to go with a coffee. Hongjoong nodded, then he turned to Yunho, expecting an answer.

‘I’m good.’

Hongjoong smiled. ‘Two coffees it is.’

He blinked. Excuse—_Excuse me_?

While Hongjoong walked across the room to the coffee machine to get them their drinks, Yunho looked at Seonghwa with an expression that could be interpreted as ‘_I freaking told you this was a bad idea._’ Seonghwa just gulped, probably regretting the choice he had made while still trying to stay relaxed. Yunho was a hundred percent sure that they were not going to get any leads from this so-called ‘professional’. This was a waste of time, maybe they should have stayed with the other officers and just searched the streets. What else could they have done, hm? Oh Christ, would someone just please get them out of here? 

A few minutes later, Hongjoong returned to the table, handing both of them their drinks. Yunho, even though he did not even like coffee and actually said he did not need anything, still accepted, thanked him, and put the cup on the table.

‘So.’ Hongjoong sat down opposite to them, twisting his lollipop between his fingers for a while before continuing to speak. ‘Do you know about the lies the poor boy spread? About the stalker?’

A big sigh left Seonghwa’s lips. He nodded. ‘His friends told us about it. Apparently it wasn’t the first time he lied about certain things to make people more interested in him, but this time he really went overboard.’

‘Well, see, Detective.’ He murmured, then pulled his lollipop out with a loud popping noise. Yunho just wished he would finally finish his candy or just throw it away because _God_ was it distracting him. ‘I don’t actually think it was a lie.’

Huh? Yunho’s glance suddenly broke from the lollipop and got stuck at Hongjoong’s eyes, his eyes that twinkled as though he had just uncovered a mystery. So they were not the only ones who thought they boy did not just run away from home because he was a moody teenager? Alright, maybe they really could get something out of Hongjoong, even if it was just a teeny tiny bit.

‘What makes you believe that?’

'I talked to his former best friend, you know. He told me a lot about Wooyoung, what kind of person he is. It’s not like that kid has a bad life. Rich parents. Nice house. Friends. He even had good grades. But doesn’t matter how rich you are, there’s always something you want but can’t have. In Wooyoung’s case, it’s attention. If you’re asking me, I wouldn’t wanna be friends with him. He’d be such a pain in the ass, God. Constantly bragging, the selfishness. Can’t stand people like that.’

Yunho looked at him confused. Well that certainly was not how you should talk about a missing person, right? But it did make sense and Yunho could not help but agree with him. Yeosang had told them similar things. Wooyoung was that typical rich kid. He was spoiled and actually pretty annoying to be around with, but he still had friends and lots of admirers. That just simply was how the world worked. In the end, he was just a boy who would be nothing without his parents, who was unhappy because in the end, money was not everything and well, sooner or later people are going to stop putting up with annoying asshole behaviour. 

‘So how does that prove he’d been stalked?’

‘Let me put it that way. Imagine you’re a zebra in a desert and after days of walking and walking you finally find a huge puddle of water. Now, after finding this long awaited treasure, would you just pass by it and not even get a sip from the refreshing water?’

‘Of course not, that’s dumb. I’d get as much to drink as possible.’

‘Exactly.’

Yunho blinked, he did not know what Hongjoong’s wonderful metaphor was supposed to tell him. ‘So?’

‘I think what Hongjoong is trying to say is that in this case, Wooyoung is the zebra, water is attention, and the puddle is his friends at school. He started ditching school, remember? Why would he avoid his only source of attention if he didn’t have a good reason for it?'

‘And this reason being fear, because this stalker actually exists?’

‘Bingo.’ Hongjoong pointed a finger gun at Yunho, grinning. 

Yunho repeatedly switched between Seonghwa’s and Hongjoong’s eyes. 

‘I guess that makes sense, but we can’t prove it.’

‘Sure, you can't. But I can’t think of another reason why he would stop going to school or well, going out at all. It’s not like he only ditched school, right? Wooyoung wants to been by other people. He wants to be looked at, to be acknowledged. He can’t achieve that by staying home all the time. So what other reason than a stalker could there be that he'd do without attention? That’s not like him at all!’

'The notes we found undergrid this theory, too.' Yunho remarked. 'But this stalker could be anyone.'

'Well, maybe you don't even have to look that far. Stalkers are obsessed with their targets. They need to be close to them all the time to follow them around, so he or she can't be that far. Heck, the stalker might even be a friend, a neighbor. Around four of five victimes are stalked by someone they know. Rather than looking for a geezer, take a deeper look into the people closest to Wooyoung, don't ya think, 'tectives?' 

Hongjoong winked again. Yunho restrained himself from rolling his eyes. But even if Hongjoong was right, who the hell could it be? Wooyoung was handsome, rich. There were lots of people who admired him, hence there were a lot of people who came into question as a stalker. Men and women.

'Only yesterday I talked to this friend of his, Mingi was his name. At first he didn't want to talk to me until he found out I was a photographer. Turns out it's his dream job. Coincidences, am I right? Asked me a whole bunch of questions before I could even get back to asking him about Wooyoung. He straight up rejected the stalker theory. Didn't even wanna hear about it. I figured he was the one to blow Wooyoung's lie. He was kinda intimidating, ya know? With his height and stuff. I'm a small dude, made everything a bit more terrifying.'

Well, Yunho was pretty tall, too. But that did not seem to be a problem to Hongjoong. But Yunho had to admit that—even though it might not be his height—something about Mingi was odd. Yes, maybe he was going through some stuff because of the whole Wooyoung story. But maybe not because he _felt_ guilty. Maybe because he _was_ guilty.

‘Can I take a look at your pinboard?’ Seonghwa asked after he took a sip from his coffee, Yunho still had not touched his cup and even though it was very kind of Hongjoong to have made him one (though he did not ask him to), he planned on not touching it at all. Coffee was bitter. Yunho liked sweet. Hongjoong happily told Detective Park to go on and look at the board while Yunho decided to take a look around the office. He had to admit that Hongjoong seemed to be a talented photographer, a photographer who was good at shooting just any kind of photos. There were photos from a wedding, a traditional festival, family photos, pictures of small children in cute vintage fashion. And there were even photos of naked women, wrapping their bodies around beautiful silken cloths and elegantly posing on a fancy chaise longue. Yunho found them stunning, maybe it was a bit odd to put them up right next to photos of innocent children, but still somehow Hongjoong managed to let these women look just as innocent as the children.

‘You even do nude photo shoots?’

Yunho’s head turned to Hongjoong, just to find out that he had been observed by him the whole time. He nodded.

‘Is there anything more beautiful than the human body?’

Yunho did not answer. He thought of a couple of things that he found just as beautiful or maybe even more beautiful, but Hongjoong’s words made him wonder. Was there something more beautiful than the human body? The fact that we were all shaped differently which made us into the beautiful individuals we were, was there something more wonderful?

‘Hm?’ 

Both of their heads turned to Seonghwa who was holding a framed photograph in both of his hands. It seemed as though he had taken it from the shelf right next to the pinboard. ‘That boy looks like—he looks like someone I know.’

Seonghwa turned the photo around to show it to Hongjoong. Yunho could not quite identify the people in the photo from where he was standing, but one of them had to be Hongjoong himself as he could make out a big, bright, red splodge. Hongjoong’s hair, obviously.

‘Do you mean San?’

‘San? Choi San?’

Hongjoong nodded slowly. ‘Do you know him?’

Seonghwa nodded absentmindedly while observing the photo again. ‘Damn, it’s been a while. I almost didn’t recognize him with that hair colour. He looks so manly, he used to have such a baby face. How old is he? 20? 21?’

‘20. World sure is small.’ Hongjoong laughed. As much as Yunho tried to produce a face in front of his eyes, the name did not ring any bells. He did not know anyone by that name. ‘How do you know him?’

‘I met him through work. I haven’t seen him in what... almost two years? He looked so innocent back then, he has grown up so much in such a short time. I always wondered what happened to him. Are you two friends?’

‘Yup.’ Hongjoong smiled, then pointed at a computer. ‘He’s also my one and only employee. He basically runs the whole business while I’m out there shooting photos. He’s doing a pretty good job, keeping in mind that he didn’t have any formal training. And g iven the circumstances, I think he’s doing pretty well. He’s currently living in an apartment not too far from here.’

‘He already lives alone, hm?’

‘Well, it’s not like he could live with his parents.’

Detective Park did not say anything to that, he just nodded while biting his lips. He kept looking at the photo for a while until he decided to put it away again.

‘I’ll show you something.’

Hongjoong got up from his chair, threw away his lollipop (_finally_) and then walked up to the computer he just pointed at. Seonghwa quickly followed him and Yunho decided he would join them after taking a quick glance at the photo. As much as he looked at this person, he did not seem familiar. Yunho did not know anything about San, never heard of him, never seen him. He had white hair, was a bit taller than Hongjoong, but he did not smile in the picture unlike Hongjoong who was grinning as though he would get a prize for it. But San did not look unfriendly. Maybe he looked a bit out of place, before they took the picture he was probably awkwardly trying to figure out what to do with his arms so it would not look weird but ended up doing nothing with them and just let them dangle on the side of his body, making him look even more uncomfortable. But no, not unfriendly at all.

Hongjoong sat down and booted the computer. ‘I’m telling you, if he’d grown up in a better family, he’d be rich by now with all the talent that’s slumbering inside of him. Poor boy.’

When Yunho came over to them, a Polaroid picture stuck to the edge of the computer caught his attention. It was a selfie of them both, San (this time he had brown hair, however) holding the camera, grinning, and having put an arm around Hongjoong. Hongjoong was smiling back. A nice picture. Hongjoong must have noticed Yunho’s glance and told them it was the day he had given his Polaroid camera to San. He said that since San did not earn too much money, he could not afford a camera. So whenever Hongjoong bought new equipment, he would give his old one to San. That must be nice, having a friend like Hongjoong. Yunho thought that maybe Hongjoong was not so bad after all. He was a little weird, way too hyped about just everything, but Yunho felt that he was a good person. Maybe even a better friend. And, of course, an excellent photographer.

‘Look at these beautiful pictures. These are the ones San took. Usually he’d just render mine, but sometimes when he has some free time or during lunch break, he works on his own photographs. Wonderful, right?’

Yunho and Seonghwa both nodded. But hold on!

‘Wait.’ Yunho quickly put one hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, signaling him stop scrolling. ‘Can you go back up a bit?’

Hongjoong did as Yunho ordered him, and see there. Yunho was not wrong. His eyes did not fool him. ‘Isn’t that Wooyoung?’

‘Oh! It is! Damn, San’s quick! I told him three days ago that I was working on this story and he already searched for a pictured and prepared it for me to use. See? He’s such a hard and thoughtful worker. I’m really happy to have him. He also never complains, you know?’

‘I see... He really does seem to have a talent. By the way, is he not working today?’

Hongjoong closed the window with the pictures, which was sad. Yunho wanted to observe the photo of Wooyoung a bit longer. It was a really nice picture, maybe a friend took it? Then Hongjoong shook his head.

‘I gave him off for a couple of days. He’ll be here on Monday again. Should I tell him you stopped by?’

Yunho frowned. But—

‘Oh, that—no.’ Seonghwa shook his head. ‘That won’t be necessary. But thanks anyway. I guess we should also get going now.’

Seonghwa paid a quick glance to Yunho who did not have anything against leaving at all. Hongjoong nodded and got up from the chair again.

‘I guess I wasn’t too much of a help, but feel free to stop by whenever you like. I can call also you if I find anything out.’

‘That would be great.’ Detective Park said after he downed the last drops of his coffee. ‘You still helped us a lot.’

Yunho took a last glance around the room, he looked at the pinboard and at Hongjoong. Then they said goodbye and left the building. After all, they did not find out anything new. The only thing they got was the opinion of a third party and it turned out that they maybe were not so wrong about the fact that Wooyoung could have been stalked and eventually maybe ended up being kidnapped. It did not make sense for Wooyoung to ditch school when it was the only way for him to satisfy his thirst for attention. The notes they had found also hinted at a possible stalker and maybe he or she was much closer than they had initially thought. Maybe they had also already met that stalker, they just had not realized it yet.

Seonghwa leaned against the car and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Just before he could light it, Hongjoong came running to them.

‘Ah, good. Detective.’ Hongjoong came up to Seonghwa and held up a blue sticky note. ‘I thought you might want to have this.’

Seonghwa took the cigarette out of his mouth and grabbed the little paper. He raised his eyebrow and glanced back at Hongjoong, who had pulled the sleeves of his jacket over his hands to protect them from the cold while repeatedly stepping from one foot onto the other one as if he was showing a little dance, when he was only trying to stay warm.

‘He doesn’t have lots of friends, you know. He’s pretty lonely. Thought you maybe wanna stop by. Only if he lets you in, though. He was pretty moody when I went to visit him last time.’

‘Oh. Thanks.’

Hongjoong just nodded and said goodbye again before quickly disappearing inside. Detective Park shoved the little note inside his pocket and then lit his cigarette.

‘So what do you think?’ He turned to Yunho.

‘I guess it’s worth looking deeper into the people around him. Now it’s not just us who think that he had a stalker and what Hongjoong said did make sense. You saw how unbothered his parents were, even after making the appeal. Honestly, no Hollywood actor could cry like that. They don’t care about Wooyoung, so the only joy in his life was the attention he got from his friends. He wouldn’t throw all of that away just like that, without a proper reason. Maybe it was a lie in the beginning, but maybe there’s some truth behind it. It’s better than just assuming he ran away for a bit.’

Seonghwa nodded. ‘I guess so. But we’re still in the same place, we basically know nothing.’

‘That might be true, but I think we should look into his friend a bit more. You know, the tall one.’

‘So you _are_ suspecting him?’

‘I can’t say for sure, but it would make sense, I guess? He was the one who revealed that everything Wooyoung said was just a lie, right? Every one believed Wooyoung and they probably would have contacted the police sooner or later, but before they could do that, Mingi put an end to it. How convenient. Remember how Mingi told us that Wooyoung accused him of writing the notes and taking the photos we found? Maybe he was right, but why would anyone believe him now? And Hongjoong also told us Mingi was pretty much obsessed with photography, he also owns a Polaroid camera.’

‘Well, I guess that is a bit weird. Also the fact that he was the one who saw Wooyoung hurt himself that one day, even though Mingi doesn’t live anywhere near to Wooyoung, so him crossing paths with Wooyoung on his way to school doesn’t make a lot of sense. He couldn’t have run into him if we was on his normal way to school. He must’ve deliberately chosen that detour.’

‘Exactly.’ Yunho watched Seonghwa think while pushing the smoke through his nose.

‘But then again, Mingi is just a teenager. He couldn’t possibly kidnap Wooyoung, right? Where would he hold him hostage?’

‘I’m not sure. I guess since they were friends, he could’ve lured him somewhere. There are lots of empty apartments and warehouses in the poorer areas around here. I guess we could also have the police get a closer look into them, maybe they’ll find something. And while they’re doing that, we should definitely pay Mingi a visit.’

‘Alright. I guess we should do that.’ Seonghwa let the cigarette fall onto the ground. He stepped on it with his shoes to put it out and then he shoved his hands into his pockets. It had become pretty cold. Yunho was no smoker, but the cold let him look like one with his visible breath making clouds in the air. It was no surprise, it was November after all. If Wooyoung really was somewhere in one of those abandoned places, he just hoped he was doing well, not freezing his butt off. 

Seonghwa walked around the car to get to the driver’s seat, but before he got into it, he turned around to Yunho.

‘But... can we do something else first?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	15. Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My boys and girls!!  
Me is back ♡ 
> 
> For this chapter we got an AMAZING fanart done by my beautiful friend Aiko♡ It literally looks the way I pictured the scene in my head and it's absolutely beautiful. I can't thank you enough! You're amazing and I love you ><♡
> 
> If you want to see more beautiful artwork done by her please visit her Twitter [kharuu_](https://twitter.com/kharuu_?s=21) or IG [aikyu.chibi](https://www.instagram.com/aikyu.chibi/)!!!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 14, Fresh Air**

**제 14 장 , 신선한 공기 **

‘Alright... You’re done.’

Wooyoung put the scissors on the sink before running his fingers through San’s hair multiple times. He carefully stepped back a few centimeters, making sure he did not step in any hair that had dropped onto the floor. He observed him for a bit and nodded again. He looked good. San got up from the toilet—it was the only thing he could sit on after they realized no chair really fit into the bathroom—and stepped in front of the mirror to observe himself. He turned his head left, then right. Then he glanced at Wooyoung.

‘I like it.’

Wooyoung nodded. ‘Of course you do. One could say I’m almost a professional.’

‘I didn’t know Hongjoong messed up my hair that bad. I thought it was just fine.’

‘Are you kidding me? He completely went mayhem on your hair.’ Wooyoung snorted. ‘He may be a good photographer but he’s a horrible hairdresser.’

San turned his head to look at Wooyoung, offering him a satisfied smile as if he was to tell him again that he really liked his new haircut. Wooyoung happily reciprocated the smile, he knew he had done a great job. Then Wooyoung’s eyes wandered off to the mirror, now to observe himself. He looked different, very different. That morning, San had woken up Wooyoung which was weird because he never did that. He always let Wooyoung sleep as long as he wanted, so Wooyoung immediately thought something seriously bad had happened. But in the end, Wooyoung did not know how or why San had come up with this incredibly random idea, but he had decided to wake Wooyoung up just to pressure him into dying his hair. At first, Wooyoung laughed as he thought San was joking, but when he held up the hair dye Wooyoung actually gulped. First he refused (and he was clearly upset that San had woken him up for something that was not an emergency), but after San kept begging him and after thinking about it for a short while, Wooyoung actually agreed. Maybe another hair color was good for a change and his silver hair also already started to fade out.

He had been pretty nervous from the moment San had applied the hair dye on his beautiful, flawless hair, up until the point where they dried it with the towel. But in the end, Wooyoung’s hair turned out just fine and even almost as good as though he had come from his usual hairdresser.

‘You look beautiful, Wooyoung.’ San must have noticed Wooyoung glancing at himself. Yes, he did look beautiful. Wooyoung liked it. It was a bit weird to see himself with brown hair again, his natural colour, because he had got used to his silver hair.

‘Thank you.’ He turned to San. ‘But can you tell me now why you had to wake me up for that? This could’ve waited until after lunch, no?’

Wooyoung saw San taking in a deep breath. He sat down on the toilet again and looked up to Wooyoung. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

A surprise? Wooyoung frowned. He walked up to San and crouched down in front of him, resting his arms on his lap. He was curious about what kind of surprise required a complete change in his appearance. ‘I’m listening?’

‘You told me you felt caged in here. And that it’s boring. And I know for myself that it’s not good for your health to stay inside this stuffy apartment for weeks, without getting fresh air.’

Wooyoung’s eyes slowly widened. ‘Wait, are you suggesting—’

San nodded. ‘Let’s go out together.’

Wooyoung’s jaw dropped. Now this really was a surprise. And not a bad one, no. In contrary. Wooyoung was freaking happy. He never thought San would allow that, let alone suggest it himself. Now he did not even mind the fact that he was up so early in the morning. Well, at least for him it was early. Just the thought of getting out, even if it only was for half an hour made Wooyoung happy. It had been over a week now since he had last seen the outside world and he was curious. He was curious about this area because he did not know it very well. He wanted to see what kind of people lived here, if there were any nice places. But what he looked forward the most was just the fresh air.

‘San, this is awesome. Where should we go? Do you have an idea? Did you plan something? Or just walking? I’m fine with just taking a walk.’

Wooyoung suddenly thought of all the places they could go to if they walked into the direction of his home, what they could do together and how much fun they could have. Maybe they could go to Wooyoung’s favorite café, but this time together. Or was that too risky? Maybe they should rather choose a place where only few people are around because in the end, Wooyoung was still missing. He looked up to San, waiting for him to say something.

‘For now, I thought we could grab a coffee somewhere and take a walk. It’s very risky to go out, especially with your posters being everywhere. That’s why I thought dying your hair would make sense. Everyone looks at a person with white hair, but 90 percent of the people walking outside have black or brown hair. You’d blend in pretty well.’

Wooyoung grumbled. He did it like blending in. But he understood that this time it would better if no one saw him, so he just nodded. He knew San was right and he was really clever for coming up with an idea like that. As far as they knew, only pictures where Wooyoung had his silver hair were distributed in the streets, and so police and other people that were looking for him would only really pay attention to white or silver hair. Brilliant. 

‘But shouldn’t you’ve dyed your hair as well then? Your colour is quite similar to the one I had.’

San nodded. ‘That’s right. But I’ll be wearing a hat.’

Wooyoung grinned and nodded. Actually, he did not really care. All he wanted was to draw fresh non-apartment air into his lungs, take a walk and drink a hot coffee.

‘This is awesome San, thanks so much.’ Wooyoung quickly ran his fingers across San’s cheek before he got up and disappeared into the living room. He did not have a big choice when it came to what he should wear, so he just went for something simple and something inconspicuous, meaning something plain and black. Usually, Wooyoung would go for the most flashy and eye-catching clothes he could find, something that would draw attention to him from every single direction. But this time he had to do the exact opposite. Trying not to stand out was a hard task for him, but the fact that he did not have anything sparkly and shiny to wear made it a lot easier for him.

He did not have to wait too long for San to get ready. But what Wooyoung noticed was that San had taken his camera with him. Maybe he needed new photos for his diary and maybe he also wanted to have some new pictures of Wooyoung. He was fine with that, San could take as many photos as he liked. He also gave Wooyoung a face mask which he gladly accepted and then the moment Wooyoung had waited for so long had finally come. San opened the front door. Wooyoung could immediately feel the cold air from outside penetrate the apartment and embracing Wooyoung’s body. They walked down the stairs to freedom and Wooyoung felt as though he was a dog and his owner just unleashed him. The cold air brushed against his pores and freed his airways. And even though it was fairly cold outside, he was too busy with looking around to actually feel the cold. The neighborhood was not beautiful but for once Wooyoung did not care about that. He could not help but keep smiling through his face mask. He had to admit that he had almost forgotten how this area looked. When he followed San home, so many thoughts were on his mind that he did not pay too much attention to his surroundings. He probably would not have found his way home he had escaped the other day. He could not say that he liked the area or that it looked beautiful in any way, it looked rather sad and abandoned. It was dirty, the houses were run down and not many people were in the streets. It did feel a bit weird, Wooyoung probably would not like to walk here alone, especially at night. The only aspect Wooyoung liked about this place were the many cats he saw. He had stopped counting after seeing five cats in just a few minutes and he wondered whether they actually had owners or whether they were stray cats. He wished they had one in the apartment so Wooyoung would have someone to play with when San was not home.

‘San, do you like living here?’ Wooyoung’s head turned to San, observing him from the side. Wooyoung could not imagine someone actually being fond of living here. But to his surprise, San nodded.

‘I like the people more than the place, though.’ He said. ‘I have very nice neighbors and most people here are really friendly. Of course there are some rude ones, but I don’t blame them. The people around here don’t have much to live off, it’s hard, so I understand it. If being rude makes them feel better I shouldn’t be the one to stop them.’

Wooyoung nodded in silence. ‘Then what do you think about the neighborhood where I live?’

San seemed to think for a second before he answered. ‘I guess I feel the same about your neighborhood as I do about mine. There are really friendly people in your neighborhood as well. And the rude ones are only rude because they’re stressed and again, I understand that.’ 

‘But maybe you shouldn’t always tolerate it when people are rude to you, don’t you think?’

San just shrugged. ‘I guess so.’

Both kept walking silently for a while. As much as Wooyoung tried to understand San and his personality, he just could not. Sometimes, San was so insecure that one could think the softest touch will make him shatter into millions of pieces, but then again he seemed so confident and superior it gave Wooyoung the chills. Maybe San was just both. Maybe he was a confident guy who did not care too much about what other people thought of him, he just tried to live his life. But maybe there was some kind of parasite who penetrated San’s brain, disturbing his nonchalance and making him insecure in a few aspects. And this parasite was Wooyoung. Wooyoung could turn San’s world upside down by just looking at him the wrong way or saying things he did not want to hear. Wooyoung controlled San like a puppet master his puppet. Wooyoung liked the feeling of having this power. He did not have the urge to abuse it in any way, even though he had done so several times in the past, but rather unintentionally. He noticed that San was quiet, quieter than usual. It probably was because he was nervous, maybe he still thought Wooyoung would try to get away from him, now that he had the chance. But he could relax, Wooyoung did not intend to run away.

They slowly got into an area where the buildings looked a bit nicer, where more shops and eventually also more people could be found. Wooyoung felt his heart pound against his chest, it felt as though the beating got faster and faster with every person that passed them. But soon Wooyoung noticed something. Unlike usually, the people did not look at him. Teenager girls did not giggle when they passed him, no one seemed to turn their heads after him and there were not even people who gossiped about his appearance. Why? Because he looked normal and he looked like everyone else in the streets. Was this how people usually felt? Invisible? Wooyoung could not help but feel weird as he was not used to being ignored like this. He almost took offense to it. If he could, he would just rip off his face mask and tell everyone he was the missing boy, just to make them look at him. But there was this barrier that did not let him do so. He knew that this barrier was San, but it was not like Wooyoung tried to break through it. He just leaned against it while observing everything around him. He wanted to be looked at, yes. But the desire to stay with San somehow was bigger. 

They passed by the missing person posters a few times, but they did not stop to look at them. Wooyoung was okay with it as looking at them felt kind of eerie. How would you feel if you saw a photo of you in the streets that says you went missing when actually you were perfectly fine and safe? The whole situation was really weird to Wooyoung. People thought he was somewhere, maybe even hurt or in danger but they did not know he was right next to them, almost living his normal and boring daily life, walking in the streets to grab a coffee. Yes, it was not just the poster that made him feel weird. It was this whole situation.

‘There’s the cafe.’ San pointed at a sign.

‘Star 1117?’ Wooyoung read the name of the cafe. ‘Never heard of it. And it’s good? It seems a bit unimpressive.’

‘It’s not very big but not many people go there and I really like it. It has the best coffee and the most exotic kinds of tea. You won’t be disappointed.’

Wooyoung smiled and nodded. They went into the little cafe and even though it did not have a lot of seats and was fairly small, it did not change the fact that it looked gorgeous. Wooyoung never thought this kind of cafe existed around here. It felt really cozy, almost like he was in someone’s home. There were lots of plants and flowers, shelves with books in them. The chairs and tables were maid out of wood that had a warm brown color to it and you could hear piano music play in the background. From the outside the cafe really did not look special at all, that was probably why only few people actually took the chance and went inside but this cafe was probably what you could call a hidden gem then.

They sat down at a table in the corner and Wooyoung noticed that they really almost were alone. There was just a couple and another girl studying all by herself. None of them bothered to look at them even for a split second. The employee was minding his own business, meaning he was playing games on his phone which was okay because they did not have a lot of customers anyway. He also was the only employee around. It did not take long for Wooyoung to decide what he wanted. He simply went for a coffee and they also agreed on sharing a cake.

‘I’ll get that.’ San put his camera on the table, stood up from his chair and walked up to the employee to give up their order. Wooyoung glanced at San, smiling. Maybe this was the beginning of going back to a normal life? Maybe even a better life? If this worked well today, maybe they could go out more often and do even more stuff. They could go to karaoke bars, Wooyoung really liked singing and he wondered whether San was good at singing too. They could go to the movies, maybe play some games in a PC Bang. Wooyoung was wondering if with time, people would start to forget about him. While the thought made him feel uncomfortable, it would be required for them to live like normal people. Wooyoung was okay with going out like this for some time, only trying to be in places with just a few people, but he knew himself. He knew that he would not be able to do this for a long time. Eventually, he will become thirsty again, he will start missing the places he would usually go to. So people should forget about him. They should stop looking for him. Wooyoung could not have both. But maybe he did not even need anything else than San who vowed to make him the happiest person in this world. He would not disappoint Wooyoung, the love of his life, right?

A few minutes later, San came back with the coffees and the cake and sat down again.

‘You were smiling at me.’ San reached out for a fork but let Wooyoung take the first bite. ‘Is it good?’

‘Very good.’ Wooyoung said, grinning. ‘I’m happy. It feels really good being out again.’

‘Do you hate the apartment so much?’

Wooyoung shook his head. ‘It’s not that I hate the apartment. I actually really like it. But it feels stuffy after some time. There’s also not much to do, you know. I actually tried reading some of your books but most of them didn’t interest me and the other rest were children’s books. I’m not much of a reader, you know?’

‘The children’s books are actually really worth reading, though. You might think they’re boring but they teach you the most. Those books were all mine when I was younger. Some I also gave to Yoojin.’

‘What’s your favorite book, then?’

San smiled. ‘It’s _The Boy who Cried Wolf_. Do you know it?’

Wooyoung nodded. ‘Yes I do. I saw it in your collection but the ending was a bit different to the ending I know. I thought the boy gets scolded by the villagers and then everything is fine but in your version he gets eaten by the wolf, together with all the sheep. I wonder what kind of ending my version of the story would have.’

‘Well, which of those two endings would you prefer?’

Wooyoung thought for a while. Getting caught and coming home, then being scolded by his parents and police or being devoured by San? He liked none of those endings. ‘Neither, actually. I guess I’d have to write my own ending.’

San just smiled at him. Yes, maybe there was another ending where the boy and the wolf lived happily ever after, far away from the villagers. But then again, what would the moral of the story be? Did there have to be one? Maybe not. Maybe it was enough if the boy was happy.

‘Let’s make this a tradition. Let’s come here at least once a week. What do you think?’ Wooyoung grinned at San who gladly accepted the offer. Establishing traditions like this could help to create a tighter bond between them and at the same time, Wooyoung would have the opportunity to get out of the apartment from time to time. He did not have to be outside every day, he did not even want that, but it would make him a lot happier to get some fresh air every once in a while. And so far, no problems have occurred, right? While no one really paid attention to Wooyoung, there was always one pair of eyes stuck onto him, eyes that never let go of him, that did not let him go out of sight for one second. San’s eyes. What else did he need, right? 

_Click_.

Wooyoung looked up. San was holding up his camera, facing Wooyoung. He laughed. ‘Did you take a picture of me?’

‘You seemed lost in thoughts, it looked beautiful.’

‘Can I take a picture of you, too?’ Wooyoung tilted his head a little and San seemed a bit surprised.

‘Of me? But why? I’m not as beautiful as you, I wouldn’t make a good subject for a photo.’

Wooyoung only rolled his eyes. He did not let San protest any further but rather took the camera out of his hands. Wooyoung was not very good at taking pictures of people other than himself, but somehow taking photos of San seemed very easy. First he avoided looking into the lens, he seemed uncomfortable. Maybe San really did not enjoy being the focus of the camera, other than Wooyoung. But after Wooyoung told him to relax and after he finally spared a glance at the camera, Wooyoung felt as though he for once could understand San. There was something beautiful about taking pictures of other people, not just of oneself. It was interesting to look at people through another lens and see how their body reacts. Most people faked a smile whenever they spotted a camera around them, Wooyoung did that a lot, too. But San, he just looked into the camera with his usual face, without making the effort to look pretty and in the end, when Wooyoung looked at the picture, he found it even more beautiful than the one San took of him. He seemed so natural and like himself. Wooyoung was very happy with the photo.

‘You should take more photos of yourself. It’s really pretty.’ Wooyoung turned the camera to show the photo to San.

‘It’s only pretty because you took it.’

Both smiled at each other. Yeah, what else did Wooyoung need?

San let the last piece of cake disappear inside his mouth, then he took his camera back again.

‘What do you think, shall we go out and take our very first photo together?’

Wooyoung nodded hastily. They grabbed their coffees and got up from their chairs. When they were about to walk out of the cafe, they could hear the employee get up from his chair, wishing them a nice day. Wooyoung instinctively turned around, bopping his head a little to say goodbye. For a split second their eyes met until Wooyoung turned away again and all he could think was that the employee looked cute, with his light hair and his baby face and the sleepy eyes. Maybe they will see him again next time.

Wooyoung quickly finished his coffee and threw the cup away, then he put on his face mask again. San did the same.

‘Let’s take the photo somewhere secluded. I don’t want to be in the photo with a face mask.’

San agreed and they slowly started to walk into the direction of the apartment again. Now, after leaving the warm cafe, Wooyoung slowly began to freeze a little. It was not too bad, but he was already looking forward to the twenty blankets in the apartment. They already were halfway home when they decided to stop for a picture. No people were around and even though the area was not the most beautiful one, it was not important for the picture. What counted was that San and Wooyoung were both in it together.

‘Let’s use the self-timer. I’ll put the camera here.’ San carefully placed the camera on top of a wall that was a bit smaller than the both of them, then he pressed the little button and quickly walked up to Wooyoung, asking him if he wanted a special pose.

‘No, just look at the camera and try to express how you’re feeling, okay?’ Wooyoung grinned and turned to the camera, but he still felt San’s glance on his face. He turned to San again. ‘Quick! Stop looking at me but look at the camera.’

Wooyoung hastily grabbed San’s wrist, urging him to look at the camera, but he would not move.

‘But I want to look at you.’

San’s quiet voice sounded like a little melody in Wooyoung’s ears. He examined his face, his expression. The little smile on his lips. It was not a smile fabricated for a photo, but a smile dedicated to Wooyoung and only to him. Wooyoung had never seen someone look at him like that with that kind of sincerity and purity. And that was what he was always talking about. That was what he needed. It was admiration, pure admiration and affection. And before Wooyoung could react, before he or San could turn their heads to the camera again, the shutter was released and their first photo was shot.

Wooyoung blinked. His heart pounded. _Why?_ Then he quickly looked away and walked up to the camera.

‘We’ll do that again, but this time you really have to look into the camera.’ He said and pressed the self-timer again. This time San listened to him and glanced at the camera. Wooyoung did the same but he decided to grab San’s hand. He felt San’s fingers wrap around Wooyoung’s hand and he could not help but smile at that. After the photo was taken, Wooyoung walked up to the camera. San followed him.

‘Shall we take a look?’ He grinned and took the camera. The second photo looked really beautiful, both were smiling and holding hands. Wooyoung liked it. But the first photo was a bit different. It somehow felt intimate. While San was smiling at Wooyoung, Wooyoung looked at San with an innocent expression, an expression Wooyoung did not know he was capable of making. But the way they were looking at each other felt so real, not like a photo but more like a beautiful memory.

‘I like the first one better.’ San said and Wooyoung could not help but agree with him.

‘From now on I want to take lots of pictures with you, okay?’ Wooyoung turned to San who simply nodded, still smiling at him. Wooyoung just smiled back. When they decided to walk back to the apartment, Wooyoung grabbed San’s hand again, holding it tightly. Today was a very important day to him. It maybe seemed like nothing and to someone else it maybe did not even feel special at all, but to him it did. And he knew that San liked it as well. Really, if they could just live on like that, Wooyoung did not even have a reason to go home anymore. There was no desire to escape, no urge to become free. Why? Simply because he already felt free.

After some time they finally made it to the apartment complex and Wooyoung could not wait to lie down and—

‘Huh?’ Wooyoung stopped walking and looked up, then pointed at San’s apartment. ‘Isn’t this your apartment?’

San’s eyes looked into the direction in which Wooyoung’s finger was pointing and indeed, it was San’s apartment. And right in front of the apartment, there were two men. They did not look like they belonged in this neighborhood, they were wearing decent clothes, their hair was nicely done. They even looked a little intimidating. Wooyoung turned to San, just to see how the color in his face faded, how he eventually turned white. He felt San’s grip around his hand tightening. Did he know them?

‘San!’ Wooyoung hissed. ‘Who are they?!’

Finally, San’s white face turned to Wooyoung. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. Or well, two in this case. And then he spoke words Wooyoung thought he would not hear that soon. Words he once wanted to hear but not anymore.

‘They’re police.’

Now Wooyoung’s face went white.

[kharuu_](https://twitter.com/kharuu_?s=21) / [aikyu.chibi](https://www.instagram.com/aikyu.chibi/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	16. Trembling Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guuuuuuuys! Welcome back ♡  
Won’t be holding you long since the last chapter ended with a bad cliffhanger haha.
> 
> Just one thing! I have something nice planned and I’m going to release it in a couple of days! If you want to stay up to date you can go visit my twitter through this link: [OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)  
I hope you guys will like it ♡ 
> 
> See y’all and I love all y’all *kisses*
> 
> Credits to the owner of the pic c:

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 15, Trembling** **Heart**

**제 15 장 , 떨리는 심장**

‘I guess he’s not home. We should get going.’

That was the second time Yunho had to tell the detective to stop knocking on the door after nothing had happened for five minutes.

‘He’s either not home or he doesn’t wanna talk to us. Either way, we should respect it.’

‘No, he wouldn’t just ignore me.’

Yunho rolled his eyes, why was Detective Park suddenly like that? Yunho felt as though he was talking to a child. Seonghwa completely changed after he saw the picture of this boy at Hongjoong’s office. He was quieter than usual and he almost seemed vulnerable, yet again he was childish for not accepting the fact that no one was answering the door. Yunho grabbed Seonghwa’s shoulder, gently pressing down on it to signal him that there was no use. They could come back later, maybe after they completed the tasks they actually should have been doing, tasks relevant to the case. Yunho did not know why Seonghwa was so interested in that boy’s life, why he wanted to see him so urgently. To Yunho, the boy seemed kind of odd. But he did not know him personally, so who was he to judge?

Seonghwa sighed. He paid a short glimpse to Yunho who did not know how to interpret his expression. Was he angry? Sad? Maybe disappointed? He lowered his right hand that he had used to knock on the door and told Yunho that they should come back later, maybe after talking to Mingi.

‘Excuse me?’

Both Seonghwa’s and Yunho’s heads turned into the direction the unfamiliar voice was coming from. Yunho tilted his head backwards to escape Seonghwa’s silhouette and to catch a glimpse of the man that was now standing a few meters away from them, his expression blank and eyes empty. Yunho noticed the blonde hair peeping out from underneath his cap. Was that him?

‘Choi San!’ Based on his cheerful voice, Yunho knew Seonghwa’s mood immediately lightened up. ‘Been so long, right?’

San only nodded and approached them, paying Yunho a quick glance that let a shiver run down his spine. He walked up to the door and fiddled with his keys.

‘You only ever come to see me when a family member died, but there are no left.’ He turned his face to Seonghwa to look at him, raising his eyebrows. ‘So is it me who’s dead?’

Yunho almost choked. What the _fuck_? Okay, so Yunho’s gut feeling told him that this person in front of him was weird, but he wanted to give him a chance. But this? What the fuck was that? Did he greet people like that? Seonghwa mentioned that he had met San through work, meaning San had been involved with police at some point in his life. And judging from what Detective Park had just said, maybe it was through the loss of a family member? That would explain why he lived alone at that age. But unlike Yunho, Seonghwa did not flinch at those words, he did not even blink. All he did was wait for San to find the right key and open the door.

‘Well, no good news this time, just here to ask how you’re doing.’

Good news? Since when was losing a family member a good thing? They sure were speaking in question marks, a language Yunho did not understand. Maybe he got something really wrong there, maybe he just did not understand.

But then a small smile formed on San’s lips, not even a creepy smile as one might think. He suddenly seemed like a normal boy, even a nice one. ‘I guess that’s good then.’

San unlocked the apartment door, but before he opened it, he turned to Seonghwa. ‘I’m doing good, thanks. But I guess you’re busy with work, you didn’t have to come all the way here.’

Yeah they really did not. 

Seonghwa nodded. ‘I know... and we are. But still, can we come in for a second? We could use a break.’

_ Well, could we, Detective? Could we really? _

San put on a smile and then nodded. He turned back as though he was looking for something, then his eyes met those of Yunho. No smile, just a glance. Yunho still found him weird. Then he let them in. Seonghwa remarked how the apartment looked much nicer on the inside than on the outside and Yunho had to agree with that. It looked friendlier and a lot more comfortable and it was not dirty at all, not like outside. The many books that were spread across the floor caught Yunho’s eyes, but they did not make the apartment look untidy. They made it seem as though they were inviting you in, asking you to grab a book and relax for a minute. Yunho really wished he could relax for just one goddamn minute.

‘You can sit down in the living room, it’s more comfortable than in the kitchen.’

San disappeared into a room without saying anything else and so Seonghwa and Yunho got rid of their shoes and entered the living room. They sat down on some pillows and Yunho took a moment to further look around the room. It really was nothing special, but for once Yunho got to witness an apartment that looked even poorer than his own. His was a little bigger, had nicer furniture and an actual bed, Yunho’s favorite item. He wished he could use it more often, but lately it felt like Yunho got into bed just to get out of it half a minute later. The case haunted him, he felt useless and he wondered if with time this feeling would eventually go away. Did Seonghwa feel similar things? Did he feel as useless as Yunho? Or was it just another case to him? Yunho did not know what to think or if it should even bother him. Maybe he was the one making his life more miserable than it had to be. Maybe he should have just stopped caring too much. But how?

‘Sorry, I don’t really have anything else.’

Yunho’s head turned to the entrance after he heard San come in. He was carrying a plate with cookies and a teapot. He put everything on a little coffee table and moved it closer to Seonghwa and Yunho and placed his camera on top of a pile of books, then sat down opposite to them.

‘San, you alright? You’re shaking.’

San looked up, then glanced at his hands. Oh boy and they were shaking! He quickly pressed his hands against his chest in an attempt to suppress the trembling, but this only resulted in his whole body being struck by an earthquake that had just unfolded from the touch of his hands.

‘Huh? Yeah. It’s just cold.’

Detective Park nodded, his facial expression easing and the folds on his forehead disappearing. He quickly accepted the tea cup San offered him shortly after (hands still trembling) and Yunho did the same. He was much more of a tea guy than a coffee guy anyway.

‘Oh, right. This is Jeong Yunho. We’re working together for now.’ Seonghwa said after taking a tiny sip from his tea. ‘And Yunho, that’s Choi San.’

Yunho gulped when his and San’s eyes met, even though this gloomy expression from before had vanished with no traces. _Oh, and by the way, thanks Seonghwa. You could have just let the ‘for now’ out._ Yunho suppressed a deep sigh while still looking at San who did not smile, but he also did not look unfriendly, just like how he looked in that photograph in Hongjoong’s office. He bopped his head a little, Yunho did the same.

‘Actually, a friend of yours gave me your address. Kim Hongjoong.’

San choked at that, almost spitting out the tea he was about to down. Seonghwa’s eyebrows rose in concern _again_, asking him _again_ if he was alright.

‘Yes, the tea’s just hot.’ Cold, hot. So what is it? He coughed a little, then put the cup down without taking another sip. ‘So you know my boss?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say that we know him, he just... he’s helping out a bit. With work, you know. We’re on a case and—no, it’s not important. I actually just came to see how you were doing. How long have you been living here?’

San’s eyes did not move from the plate in front of him, as though his face was frozen. It seemed like he had to think very hard about what Seonghwa had just asked him, as if it was a complicated math problem. Yunho glimpsed at Seonghwa, but he did not even seem to care. Maybe that just was San, right? Maybe he was like that. 

‘I moved in shortly after you last came to see me.’ San answered, eyes still not moving.

‘And how have you been holding up? You seem to be doing okay.’

Well, really?

‘Hyung’s paying me way more than he’d have to, so yeah. The landlady’s nice too, rent is fairly cheap.’

Seonghwa nodded. Silence. ‘But mentally?’

San finally managed to look up from the plate, now reciprocating Seonghwa’s sharp glance. At first he seemed offended by that question, as though the Detective had just stepped into his personal space—which he had—but just about when Yunho thought this time San would get mad, yet again another smile that swallowed all the anger formed on his lips, preventing him from saying something inappropriate.

‘Life’s a rollercoaster.’ He shrugged. ‘Doesn’t help that I don’t like rollercoasters. Always get dizzy. Sometimes I wish I could just halt it and get out.’

Yunho gulped. He was not sure if he interpreted San’s metaphor correctly. He was afraid he did, though. But as quickly as San’s smile had disappeared, it came back much brighter and warmer.

‘Right now I’m very happy.’

Seonghwa’s eyebrows rose. ‘Is that so? Well, I’m happy to hear that. Did something particularly good happen to you?’

San shrugged again, smiling. He did not answer.

‘Were you out photographing? Hongjoong said he gave you a few days off.’

This was the first time Yunho had opened his mouth. He had noticed San carrying his camera when he came up to them and it was still quietly sitting on the pile of books right behind San. Said person turned around and gave it a short look, then he nodded.

‘Well, I intended to, but sadly I didn’t find anything interesting.’

‘I guess that’s the weather.’ Yunho remarked but he found San shaking his head.

‘It’s not so much the weather, it’s more that I didn’t find a subject beautiful enough to take a photo of.’

Yunho swore he saw San smirking for a second until his face formed back into his standard plain expression. Yunho reached for a cookie.

‘This case you mentioned.’ His voice was calm, both hands firmly holding his cup of tea. ‘Is it about the missing boy?’

Damn, those cookies were dry as shit.

‘Exactly, Hongjoong told you about it, right?’

‘Well, how’s it going? Found any clues?’

This time, Yunho could not help but let out that big sigh that had been caught up in his throat for some time now. Were they ever going to find any clues? Maybe, yeah. If they would not sit around having a tea party with a complete stranger (at least to Yunho he was a stranger). By now they could have already driven all the way to Mingi’s house and started interrogating—whoops, sorry—they could have started _nicely talking_ to him and hey, maybe they would have left with some clues, maybe even with the culprit handcuffed in their car. But no, tea parties were more important. Yunho had to flush the damn cookie down with his hot tea, he probably would have choked if he had not done that.

‘We’re doing our best. But we really don’t have much.’ _Great, Seonghwa. Tell him how fucking bad we are at our job_. ‘Obviously we’re looking for him nonstop. We’re all working hard. We’re currently going through CCTV footage from that area as well. He just has to be in some of it, he couldn’t possibly have vanished into thin air just like that.’

‘Do you maybe have any ideas?’ Yunho asked before Seonghwa could reveal any other information.

San downed the whole cup of tea as though it was a shot. ‘Well. Not really. I’m sorry.’

Yeah, no. What could he possibly know? He was not even involved in any way, he did not even follow the case. He probably only knew what Hongjoong had told him, if he had even told him much since San was off work. Yunho bit his lips. Somehow this place made him feel weird. He believed it was only San’s presence, he was not quite sure what to think of him and what kind of personality he had. In one moment he seemed very timid and nice, even sweet. But then again when he said something his statements were bold, his tone deep and almost frightening. All in all, Yunho did not know if he could be friends with him, if he could trust him while he was maintaining such a duality. But he believed that maybe that was why Hongjoong was friends with him. Both gave off a weird vide. It was a different kind of weirdness that Yunho experienced when with Hongjoong, he just seemed like a very outgoing and hyperactive person, very different to Yunho and he did not like people who were constantly trying to force their big ass smile on you. But San, yeah, San gave him another kind of weird feeling. San did not even have to say something for Yunho to feel his goosebumps spread across his whole body. San did not have this annoying smirk printed on his face, no. Yunho should actually be more comfortable around him because in some aspects they maybe even were similar to each other. But he just could not relax.

‘Sorry, could I use your restroom?’ 

San nodded quickly and told him it was the last door on the left. Yunho thanked him and stood up, he decided to let both of them talk for a while, maybe about things Yunho should not know or things he did not understand anyway. He did not care. He opened the last door, entering a tiny bathroom with a tiny toilet and a tiny sink. But the bathroom was clean, very clean indeed so it was no problem for Yunho to do what he had to do. _Pee_.

He let the hot water run over his hands for a couple of seconds until he turned the it off. He tightly wrapped his hands around the sink as though he was looking for support. But then again he was afraid if he put too much pressure on it it was going to break away from the wall. His eyes then searched for his reflection in the mirror. He looked exhausted, he could not even deny it anymore. This was draining. Of course this job was not easy, he never expected it to be as relaxing as this little tea party they were having. But he thought that at least his first case was going to go well. It was probably his own fault for feeling like a helpless idiot right now. Maybe he really did think that he was going to just solve all cases, punching down South Korea’s crime rate to zero percent. He graduated top of his class, aced every single test he ever took. But he guessed that real life was still different. Real life was not rational and logical, there were no definite answers like those you had on exam papers. People were unpredictable and no exam score could save him from that. Just when was this going to change? Or was this going to last forever? Then did he have to change? Did he have to become like Seonghwa? But as much as he thought about it, Seonghwa sure seemed very laid back when it came to getting work done, at least sometimes. But then again, Seonghwa could be so caring, just like right now, just like with San. So was that an act? But what exactly was the act? Him caring for people or him not caring?

_ Damnit, Yunho. Get yourself together. Don’t be such a baby, what the hell.  _

He took a deep breath, reassuringly nodding to his reflection in the mirror as though he wanted to tell himself that it was fine, that he had to stay calm or else he would just go insane. It was him and him alone who was overthinking everything.

Yunho grabbed a towel to dry his hands, his eyes searching for something interesting to look at. Yunho’s gaze fell onto a little cup with a cute bear hugging a heart on it, a cup that held two toothbrushes. 

‘Huh?’ 

Two brushes? What did San need two brushes for?

He shook his head. What did he care, San was weird, San maybe liked to clean his fingernails with a freaking brush, what the fuck did he know. At least he was smart enough to take another brush for it and not the same he uses for his teeth. He rolled his eyes. He was clearly driving crazy.

Yunho then left the bathroom, eyes shortly glancing at the door right next to it. Then he returned into living room and he noticed a change in atmosphere. San’s relaxed face had turned into a somewhat saddened expression, Seonghwa’s forehead had creased up in a worried expression. Told you, they had probably been talking about things Yunho did not understand, things Yunho did not care enough about to even ask. Seonghwa’s face turned to Yunho after he had noticed him standing in the doorway, then he nodded, his looks relaxing again.

‘You know you can call me anytime.’ Seonghwa pointed at a smartphone in San’s hands, maybe they had just exchanged numbers. San just nodded at that, quietly thanking him. ‘We should get going now, we still have some work to do.’

Both stood up, Yunho turned around to put on his clothes.

‘So what’s your next step? Regarding the case, I mean.’

‘We’ll go back to question some of his friends. I’m sure we must’ve overlooked something.’ Seonghwa buttoned up his coat, then he turned to San, offering him a little smile. ‘Make sure you always dress warm. And again, if you need something, just call me.’

San nodded, then he turned to Yunho. They bowed to each other, no words were exchanged. He then told them goodbye and let them out. Yunho shuddered at the cold air. After leaving a warm place it felt even colder than it actually was. Winter had not even really started yet and Yunho was already looking forward to the warmer days when the trees were not naked but dressed in colorful green leaves and when the flowers were blooming, putting him into a state where he felt as though he was in love with someone when there really was nobody besides his parents who lived around two hours away and who he only ever called every few months. Maybe he should call them when he got home.

They were walking down the stairs, Seonghwa thinking about his stuff and Yunho about his own. At least now they were going to work on the case, now without further interruption or distraction. This time there just had to be a clue. They just had to get something out of Mingi. If not, what else could they do? They did not really have anything else left, did they?

Yunho got into the car together with Seonghwa who started the engine and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. Yunho turned his head, his eyes looking through the rear window like a child making faces at the driver behind them. But he looked back at San who was still standing in front of his apartment door. He did not move but his silhouette gradually shrunk as Seonghwa brought more distance between the apartment complex and the car, and eventually San had disappeared behind trees and other houses. Yunho turned around again, leaning his back against the seat. And this weird feeling had suddenly disappeared. 

*

Just how long was this going to take?

Wooyoung pressed his palms together, rubbing his hands in order to keep them warm. He had been waiting behind the apartment complex for quite a while now, between all the dumpsters and Wooyoung hated it, but he had no choice. He could not possibly have walked up to the apartment together with San. But he was wondering what the police wanted from San. Before he told Wooyoung to hide behind the dumpsters until they were gone, he told him that he knew them, that they probably were not here to talk about Wooyoung. He told him not to worry. But he did not worry about himself as much as he worried about San. He was probably freaking out internally and Wooyoung was not even there to tell him it was going to be fine, because he did not know. He did not know whether it was going to be fine or not. He just hoped that San was right about them not wanting to talk about Wooyoung, that they had not solved the mystery about the vanished boy yet.

And he just hoped that San did not blab.

‘Hey!’

Wooyoung flinched, his head moving in all directions until he noticed a small head above him. It was San sticking his head out of his apartment window.

‘Come up, they’re gone.’

Wooyoung smiled and nodded heavily. Finally. One minute longer and his hands would have fallen off and the tension he was feeling would have swallowed him up. He needed to know what had happened and he wanted to see if San was alright. At least he sounded okay. He then quickly walked around the building and got up the stairs, almost bumping into someone. He quickly grabbed the railing to prevent himself from losing his balance and falling all the way down, then he glanced at the small person in front of him.

‘Yoojin?’

‘Yoga teacher?’

Wooyoung gulped. How the hell did he recognize him that quickly?! Wooyoung had completely forgotten about him. Obviously Yoojin had kept his mouth shut, at least it seemed like that, but still it was not a good thing to (literally) bump into him. The more often they saw each other, the riskier it could get for Wooyoung.

‘Are you here to do some yoga with San Hyung?’

Wooyoung quickly nodded. ‘Yeah, San is a little out of shape, don’t you think’

A nervous smile appeared on Wooyoung’s lips, useless. Yoojin could not even see it through the mask. But maybe that was better, maybe Wooyoung looked like a complete maniac with that smile, making it obvious how nervous he was. First police and now Yoojin. What next? Was Yeosang going to appear somewhere like a wild Pokémon?

‘I think you’re lying.’

Wooyoung blinked. ‘You think I’m _what_?’

‘You’re not a yoga trainer, right?’ Yoojin looked at Wooyoung with that weird look little kids always had. This annoying all-knowing look. Wooyoung’s heart pounded.

‘You’re lying. I saw you.’

Oh no, please.

‘You saw me where?’

‘Everywhere.’ Yoojin’s looked up to the right, suggesting that he was thinking. ‘You’re on lamp posts. Walls. Doors. Even in the news, but my mum actually never lets me watch the news. It was a coincidence. You’re everywhere. Just like a super star.’

Wooyoung raised his eyebrows, his mouth opened slightly. His heart sunk. Well, fuck. What now? Did he have to kidnap him? He was not ready to kidnap a child. Heck, he was not even ready to kidnap a grown person. What the fuck should he do now? Oh fucking God what if Yoojin told his mother? What if his he told his mother that that weird yoga teacher he saw in San’sapartment looked just like the person whose face was printed on hundreds of missing person posters?  Yeah, Wooyoung had no choice but kidnap him. And his mother. How should he go about it? Yoojin was small, he could just grab him and take him inside. Then he would ask San to help him get his mum, right? That sounded like a plan. Not a good plan, obviously, but better than no plan. Wooyoung got up the last stair and crouched in front of Yoojin to be on the same level with him.

‘Yoojin, listen—’

‘I didn’t tell anyone.’

Huh? Wooyoung’s mind suddenly went blank, all the thoughts of how to grab him so he would not have the chance to either bite him or to wiggle himself out of Wooyoung’s grip vanished.

‘You don’t have to worry. I know why you don’t go home.’

‘Do you?’ Wooyoung doubted that.

‘My mama did the same with papa. She left papa because she wanted to be free and happy. I just thought maybe it was the same with you.’

Wooyoung gulped. He never thought Yoojin would say that. He wished Yoojin was right, that it was for the purpose of becoming happy and free. But Wooyoung initially left because he wanted revenge. He selfishly left everything behind to get back at everyone, to satisfy his hunger for attention. But what if Yoojin still was right? What if through San, Wooyoung could get this happiness and freedom?

‘Yes.’ Wooyoung smiled and took off his face mask. ‘That’s why you can’t tell anyone. If you tell someone you saw me here...a big monster will take all your toys away. And your clothes. And then he’ll take you away.’

‘Pah.’ Yoojin crossed his arms like a real man. ‘I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t believe in monsters.’

Wooyoung grumbled. Yeah sure, he said that while wearing a freaking Power Rangers jacket.

‘It’s okay, Hyung. I won’t tell.’ Wooyoung let out a long breath. ‘If.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘If what?’ 

‘If I can come over to play with you sometime.’

Wooyoung snorted. Honestly, that did not even bother him. At least then he had someone he could spend some time with besides San. And Yoojin did seem like a fun kid, even though he also was annoying as hell. And maybe he could bring Wooyoung another piece of cake.

‘Alright. Deal?’ Wooyoung lifted his pinky finger. Without hesitation, Yoojin wrapped his tiny finger around Wooyoung’s, giving him a firm nod.

‘Deal!’

‘Alright, but hey.’ Wooyoung looked him in the eyes. ‘Let’s keep that a secret from San Hyung, okay? That you know who I am.’

‘Yeah, I just promised you. I have to go now, my friends are waiting. I have this cool new action figure, I have to brag about it.’

Wooyoung laughed. Maybe that kid was alright. ‘Yeah, do that.’

Wooyoung got up on his feet and Yoojin waved at him before he hastily ran down the stairs, but he stopped halfway. He turned around.

‘Hyung.’ Wooyoung could literally see the worried look on his face. ‘But there really won’t be a monster, right?’

Wooyoung grinned. ‘Phew, I’m not sure. Only if you’re a good boy.’

He stared at Wooyoung. Then he nodded and off he went.

Maybe Wooyoung was stupid for letting him go like that. Maybe he should be worried now. But somehow Wooyoung had never been so relaxed in his life. Something told him that Yoojin was not going to tell anyone. If he had the intention to, he would have told his mother right away, because kids were like that. But it had been days since Wooyoung had first met Yoojin and see there. Nothing. He walked up to the apartment door and opened it. Right when he came in he saw San moving away the little table in the living room when he looked at Wooyoung. His whole body was shaking, but he was smiling. Wooyoung just smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
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> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	17. Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GuysssoUHEIUHG AaHHH   
This is a special chapter. And I am so proud to be able to FLEX with an incredible fanart by the cutest cutiepie [BaekkieBread](https://twitter.com/BaekkieBread) (leave a follow, show support)  
Art plays a big role in my life so receiving this amazing gift literally brought me to tears :)) not kidding. A big thank you to you sweetheart, your art is just wonderful and I probably won't ever get over this! 'M totally fine with that. Everyone, please appreciate this little comic:
> 
> Thank you everyone for your sweet support and for reading this story ♡

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 16, Lips**

**제 16 장 , 입술**

His whole body was trembling, but he kept up his little satisfied smile while moving closer to Wooyoung until a distance of only a few centimeters kept them apart. Wooyoung felt San’s toes bump against the shoes on his feet, their gazes locked. Wooyoung’s heart was beating against his chest as though it was trying to make him memorize a melody, and he was not sure whether it came from what had just happened outside with Yoojin, the fact that now a third person knew about him even though it was only a child, or whether it was San being so close to him and looking at him like he had not seen him in years. Wooyoung wondered if someone had ever looked at him like that. If, and this was only hypothetically speaking, he was going to spend the next few years with San and one day would bump into his parents, would they look at him the way San was looking at him right now? As much as Wooyoung repeated the phrase ‘_yes, they would_’ in his head, his heart knew better. Maybe they would even go as far as to pretend not to know him. Yes, that sounded more like his parents.

‘Is everything alright?’ Wooyoung whispered, even though no-one besides them was around and he really had no reason to.

He received a slight nod, no verbal answer. Wooyoung had questions. He wanted to know about these men, who exactly they were and what they had talked about. If they had mentioned Wooyoung in any way. But they had time, Wooyoung did not have to know right away and ruin this moment. He knew as much. He just wanted to look at him a little longer, study his face so he could reproduce this lovely expression on San’s face in his mind whenever he wanted to, whenever he wanted to remind himself that there had been someone who had actually looked at him like he was the most wonderful and precious human being on earth. And he was that. He knew, because he knew how San felt and thought about him.

‘You must’ve been freezing. I’m so sorry.’

San’s calm voice was filled with guilt, his eyebrows curled up and the little smile faded. For a second Wooyoung was sad to see this warm expression disappear, but when he realized how much emotions this new, worried expression bore, it made him feel even better. He had seen a similar expression before. It was Yeosang’s face every time Wooyoung lied to him about the stalker. He tried to remember how cute Yeosang’s face looked when he was worried, but to his surprise, Wooyoung had to realize how blurred his memories of Yeosang had become. How his beautiful, distinct features coalesced with the dark background of his black mind. And this after only such a short amount of time had passed since he had last seen him. Wooyoung washed away Yeosang’s picture in his mind with a quick blink, wondering whether he had just ultimately erased him from his memory with that.

‘It’s fine. We had no choice.’ It was not San’s fault that Wooyoung had had to wait in the cold for something about an hour, it was not like there had been another choice, he knew that very well. But he could not deny the fact that he liked how San still apologized for it. It was fine, San. Wooyoung forgave you.

He felt how San took both of Wooyoung’s cold hands, carefully putting them around his neck where they were instantly embraced by a pleasant warmth.

‘What’re you doing?’ Wooyoung let his hands rest on San’s neck even though he knew how weird that must have looked like, it almost seemed as though he wanted to choke San. And he did not want to do that, just for clarification. 

‘Warming your hands. The head area is one of the warmest parts of your body.’

‘Really?’ Wooyoung’s voice was still nothing more than a quiet breath. ‘I heard it’s your chest.’

San’s lips separated in surprise before they closed again. He observed Wooyoung’s glance which was stuck on San’s chest. ‘Do you wanna try it out?’

Now it was Wooyoung’s turn to voice his answer with only a silent nod. He let San move his hands away from his neck and carefully shove them under his shirt. From there on he let go of Wooyoung’s hands but moved closer, giving Wooyoung no choice but to place his palms right onto San’s chest where indeed, it felt just as warm as though he was holding his hands in front of a camp fire. He was amazed at that, even though it was nothing more than the human body doing what it was supposed to do. But there was something aside from San’s hot skin that made Wooyoung’s blood rush to his face, heating up his cheeks because he was fluttered. It was once again San’s fast, unsynchronized heartbeat that Wooyoung could feel pounding against his palms. It was San’s testimony, the proof that San was not lying about his feelings towards Wooyoung. The slightest touch resulted in San’s heart being thrown out of its rhythm, and Wooyoung was obsessed with it. He loved to see how San’s body reacted to Wooyoung and he was also curious about himself and how he would react. He knew his body, he could feel his heart rate increase. It was just like when you were trying not to get caught while doing something you were not supposed to do, or when you were watching horror movies and everything suddenly gets quiet, only the sound of your heartbeat eerily rings in your ears while anticipating for a grotesque face to suddenly appear on the screen. But this excitement was good. It nourished Wooyoung like a five course meal. This was what he wanted, what he needed so desperately.

‘Is it working? Are your hands getting warm?’

Wooyoung lifted his head, looking up from San’s chest only to realize how close he had come. Their noses almost touched, Wooyoung could feel the air San exhaled through his nostrils on the surface of his skin. _How warm_.

Wooyoung nodded, answering with a firm _yes_ while still not letting go of his gaze. 

‘It feels so unreal having you in front of me like this. It makes me want to hold onto you forever so you can’t go anywhere.’ San bit his lips, his poor lips.

‘You should finally stop thinking this is a dream.’

A quick smile formed on San’s lips. He nodded, but Wooyoung knew that this sensation San was feeling was not going to disappear just like that, just because Wooyoung told him to make it stop. Wooyoung could not do much about it, but he also did not have to. San had to realize for himself, he would eventually get to the point where he would know that Wooyoung standing in front of him was not an illusion but that it was very real indeed. So he let San observe him, grasp the fact that they were standing face to face, looking at each other carefully.

Wooyoung’s eyes explored all the different spots on San’s face. He noticed how San had a small mole above his left eye and how perfectly it fit him. He saw the small freckles on his neck, something he had never seen on someone else before. The sharp gaze of his eyes that attentively followed Wooyoung’s eyes wherever they looked, trying to see what he was seeing and trying to understand what he was thinking. In that moment, Wooyoung found San nothing but pretty. He thought of him so pretty that he almost got upset, that he almost started questioning whether San was prettier than himself, if something like that was possible. Never had he felt like that before, never had he doubted his own beauty before. But if he were to ask San now, he would without a doubt tell Wooyoung he was the prettiest of them all. And usually Wooyoung knew that without having to ask for validation. He knew it so well, but in that moment he felt so unsure, almost insecure and he hated it. He hated how romantically the last light of the setting sun put San in such a beautiful spotlight, letting him appear like an angel in front of him, attracting all the attention that was meant for Wooyoung. He hated how close he was but how far away he seemed, how he did not touch Wooyoung like Wooyoung was touching him. He hated how quickly his eyes moved around, trying to keep up with Wooyoung’s eyes and trying to understand what was going on inside his head right now because he knew, he knew something was going on. He knew from Wooyoung’s frowning eyebrows, from his trembling lips that were pressed together tightly and he knew from Wooyoung’s fingernails digging into San’s warm and soft skin.

Wooyoung wondered if San was thinking the same as him. He wondered whether San hated the fact that they were so close to each other but not close enough. He wondered whether San hated how Wooyoung’s lips were just a few centimeters away from his, available for use, just like how San’s lips were staring at Wooyoung, whispering to him, alerting him that his heart could explode any second if he did not do something about it. Quickly, he had to do something.

His fingers let go of San’s chest, completely ignoring how San’s heartbeat had become faster and faster, just like his own. His hands searched their way from underneath his shirt onto the surface, again wrapping around San’s neck just like before but this time it was for another reason, this time it was like a desperate call for help, a call for intimacy, his touch and his lips. He rapidly moved San’s head closer to overcome this incredibly depressing distance of only a few centimeters that was the only barrier that had kept their lips from touching. He felt San’s hands grabbing onto his shirt to search for halt, to not lose his balance and fall over due to Wooyoung’s sudden approach. But this only made him grab San’s neck even tighter, pressing his lips onto San’s, those wet lips that softened his own which were awfully dry from the cold wind outside. But he did not care, he could not care less about his own lips. He much more wanted to understand this sensation of foreign lips pressing against his own, how such a simple touch could trigger so many different kinds of emotions, emotions he had never felt before or never knew existed. How two lips touching felt so much different from when hands touched, or when shoulders brushed against each other. It was like hundreds of bees stinging you all over your body, but instead of it hurting unpleasantly, every single one of their drug-like stings ejected a wave of endorphins in your body. And with every second you want more and more. You are getting obsessed and impatient, desperately trying to get higher on that drug. That drug with San’s name written all over it. Wooyoung wondered if every kiss felt like that. If people always went through this mess of emotions when they kissed someone. Or was it only him? This could not be, right? And even if no-one else experienced kisses like him, he just knew that San was just as excited as he was.

It took San a while to realize what was happening, to register Wooyoung’s lips on his own. But once he understood, he leaned into the kiss, reciprocating Wooyoung’s impolite approach and actually taking the wheel by clutching both of his hands at Wooyoung’s hips, shoving him towards the apartment wall rather carelessly. Wooyoung’s body hit the wall with a _thud_, a surprised gasp escaped his lips between their kissing, but it did not hurt, no. Goosebumps spread across his body, he actually was not really sure whether it were his or San’s goosebumps he felt. But it was not important to find that out. His eyes were closed, he was wondering whether San was looking at him or not, but usually you closed your eyes while kissing, right? He then sneaked a little peak just to see San’s face intimidatingly close to his, with both eyes firmly closed and concentrating on the kiss. He let his hands travel across San’s neck into his hair, pulling him even closer while pressing his own body against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes again, slowly realizing he was getting out of breath, but he already feared the mere thought of letting go of San so soon, so he kept pulling him closer, eliciting a sigh with pleasure from San and indulging in the kiss for as long as he could before he had no choice but to pull away only a few millimeters. He gasped for air, still not letting much of a distance come in between him and San who did not even have the intention to loosen his grip around Wooyoung’s waist. Wooyoung already missed the feeling of San’s soft lips as his hot breath danced on Wooyoung’s skin, placing countless kisses on his neck with his wet lips. His fingers ran through San’s soft hair, almost forcibly keeping him close. He stretched his neck and leaned his head back as best as he could to offer San more space for his sweet kisses. He ran his tongue over his lips in search for San’s taste, eyes closed to amplify this incredibly sweet sensation. 

Never had he imagined for kisses to feel like that. So far he had seen so many different kinds of kisses in movies and other video material. There were those innocent and shy kisses you often saw in teenage romance movies, those that made you want to bury your face in a pillow and scream in a high pitched voice. Then there were the passionate ones, the ones you did not necessarily want to see with your parents next to you on the sofa because they were literally sucking each other’s faces. But Wooyoung felt like this kiss right now, between him and San, it did not fit in either of these categories. And he did not know whether there even was a category for such a kiss, if he even wanted to label it. One thing was for sure: it was Wooyoung’s first. And he wondered if San had done this before.

He slightly opened his eyes when he could not feel San’s lips on his skin anymore. He let go of his soft locks, let his hands move across his neck and shoulders until he completely took them away and calmly let them dangle on the sides of his body. San had lifted his head, saying nothing as he was trying to calm his breath. Their gazes locked, Wooyoung suddenly felt shy, he never felt like that. He felt like he needed to say something, he tried to come up with some words, anything. But eventually he failed and kept his mouth shut and just kept looking at San with his eyebrows lifted, his eyes slightly more opened than usual. San’s face was still very close to his, and he liked it. He did not want him to distance himself in any way.

‘Why?’ San’s firm voice made Wooyoung gulp. It was similar to how he spoke when they fought the other day after Wooyoung begged San to let him go. But this time Wooyoung was not afraid of his voice, he was not afraid of San. He much more wanted him to come even closer, to passionately kiss him again. ‘Why did you kiss me?’

Well, why did he?

Wooyoung escaped San’s eyes by lowering his gaze, truly asking himself why he had done it. It could not possibly be because he had feelings for San, right? How likely would that be? If Wooyoung was handed a questionnaire asking with whom his first kiss would most likely be with, never _ever_ would he have chosen ‘with my stalker’. That would not even be a choice! This was absurd! _Wooyoung_ just kissed his _stalker_. But why? Why had he done it? He was confused. Maybe he only kissed him because he wanted to? Yeah, maybe that was it. Maybe it was just because he wanted to kiss him, nothing else. Wooyoung did this really often, it was one of his traits. Not meaning he often kissed his stalkers, no, definitely not. But acting instinctively and impulsively, doing things out of the blue because his heart told him to—

Silence.  He gulped. 

‘Because my heart told me to.’

He lifted his head, embracing San’s gaze. And there it was again, this colorful sparkle in his eyes. Much brighter and stronger than ever. Gosh, Wooyoung found it so beautiful. And the fact that it was dedicated to Wooyoung only made it so special. It almost looked like a galaxy, like Wooyoung was San’s galaxy. San’s expression softened, he looked at him with such a warm face, so full of love.

_ Mum, dad. Why did you never look at me like that? _

Wooyoung understood. He finally understood. Everything. Why San treated him like that, why he only ever did what he thought would be best for Wooyoung. He thought about Wooyoung before he thought about himself, this was what distinguished him from Wooyoung’s parents. They were egotistic, just like Wooyoung. Their well-being was above anyone else’s. But for San, no. For San, Wooyoung came first. And now he knew. He knew before, yeah, but now he really understood what that meant. Now Wooyoung knew that his parents did not mean anything to him. They were nothing, they did not love him like San loved him. They were not worth any of Wooyoung’s thoughts, they should finally disappear from his memory. What use were they to him anymore? Who else did he need when he had San?

‘And what is your heart telling you now?’ San’s voice brought Wooyoung back to reality.

‘I want _you_ to kiss me this time.’

He did not even think before speaking those words and it was okay, he did not have to. Like that, he knew that what he was saying really was his heart speaking right now, not his mind.

He gasped when he felt San’s fingers grab his chin, not forcefully but carefully this time. He pulled him closer, Wooyoung felt the wall behind his back disappear and he watched how San closed his eyes, how his face came even closer and then he could feel San’s lips on his once more. Wooyoung sighed from pleasure, his eyes shut down and he fully gave into the soft kiss. His hands found their way to San’s shoulders in search for support as Wooyoung suddenly felt his knees weaken. This kiss was so different from the first one, but it was in no way any less beautiful.  San then pulled back and their lips parted, eliciting an annoyed sigh from Wooyoung. _Way too soon._ His eyes opened, he watched San lick his own lips. Wooyoung wondered if he liked the taste just as much as Wooyoung liked San’s. It had almost gotten dark, the bright light from just a few minutes ago had almost disappeared, but not yet completely. It could not be that late yet. San was still very close to him, still gently holding onto his waist and Wooyoung liked it.

‘Are you hungry, should we eat something?’

Wooyoung nodded. He moved away his arms from San’s shoulder but instead took his hand and he immediately could feel San’s fingers wrap around his, tightening the soft grip. He then stepped back a little and offered Wooyoung a smile before he proceeded to lead him into the kitchen.

Was this a relationship? And if so, was it romantic? Did Wooyoung even want a relationship? How should he describe what he and San had? Wooyoung was afraid he did not know the answer to any of those questions yet, he could already see himself think about them before he would go to sleep and after hours and hours of severe thinking, he would slowly drift away without even having gotten somewhat close to an answer to any of those questions.

After they got into the kitchen, San told him to sit down, which he did. Their hands parted, Wooyoung clenched his into a fist as though he was trying to capture the feeling of San’s warm fingers holding onto his. Wooyoung rested his chin on his other hand, observing San while he was waiting for the water to heat up while taking out several packs of instant noodles. Just what Wooyoung wanted.

‘Were you scared that I’d take the chance to run away?’ Wooyoung suddenly asked, he did not know how this question even came to his mind. ‘Earlier, I mean. While police was here.’

Wooyoung stuck his tongue out and let it play with his lips in an attempt to find what San had left there.

‘I’m not sure what exactly I was afraid of. You leaving me or the cops finding you before you could leave me.’

Wooyoung audibly exhaled through his nose, he was amused. ‘Well, nothing like that happened. You should relax.’

‘That’s true.’ San nodded and put the chopsticks on the table. ‘Though they did look for you. Not particularly in my apartment, but they’re the ones in charge of your case.’

‘And you know them?’ Wooyoung’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘What did they say?’

‘I know one of them. Detective Park. We first met after the death of my mother and then saw each other quite frequently for a short while. Then we met again at my father’s funeral. I really thought I’d never see him again, and yet he found his way to my apartment door.’

‘You never talk about your father.’ Wooyoung remembered how he also never wrote about him, and then he got sad. He pitied San for having lost both of his parents in such a short amount of time. He wondered how that must feel, being completely alone at such a young age. Did he not have any other family members left? No uncles or grandmas? Wooyoung suddenly felt like he should feel grateful for having parents, but he could not lie. He was not. He was not grateful for them. It might sound ignorant, probably even crude, but to Wooyoung, his parents felt just as dead as San’s. 

‘Well, why would I? He’s dead.’ Wooyoung shuddered at San’s nonchalance. ‘The day he died was the happiest day in my life.’

‘Really? Why?’

San smiled. ‘I met you.’

Wooyoung’s jaw dropped, but he reacted quickly enough to close his mouth immediately after. Was this supposed to flutter him? He suddenly remembered how San told him about the first day he saw Wooyoung. San put down the pot with the noodles in the middle of the table and sat down. He was smiling. Maybe Wooyoung was his coping mechanism? The only thing San could hold onto, the only thing that made him forget what had happened to his parents. San was using Wooyoung. Wooyoung was using San. Well, maybe this really was a relationship then?

‘Do you think this detective will be a problem?’ Wooyoung changed the topic back to the policemen. He took the chopsticks and picked at the food.

‘Don’t think so. They basically know nothing.’ San smiled. ‘And they have no reason whatsoever to come here again.’

Wooyoung just grinned, showing San the full range of his teeth while chewing on his noodles. ‘Good.’

‘They said they were going to question your friends again. They didn’t mention who, though. The only problem might be Hongjoong. They seem to work together to some extend, Hongjoong actually led them here.’

‘But if police can’t manage to find us, Hongjoong helping them won’t change much, don’t you think?’

San scrunched his nose while slowly rocking his head to the left and right. ‘Don’t underestimate Hongjoong. If he wants something, he doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied. He can go lengths.’

‘Then what shall we do?’

‘Nothing. Not yet. I’ll keep an eye on him and if he should get too close, we’ll do something about it.’

Wooyoung nodded, he approved of San’s plan, if one could even label this a plan. There was not much they could do at the moment anyway. No one seemed to have the slighted idea of where Wooyoung could possibly be, so there should not be any reason for them to be worried. They should save their worries for when they really needed them, and Wooyoung just hoped that day would never come. 

Both were eating in silence now, Wooyoung let his thoughts loose. So many things were going through his mind, but there was one question that kept popping up in front of his eyes and it bugged him. He put down his chopsticks to the side and leaned back, although he did not intend to stop eating just yet. San looked up.

‘San... have you ever kissed before?’

San cleared his throat and rested both of his elbows onto the table, he leaned over a little and then he nodded. Well, Wooyoung already did not like in which direction this was going.

‘Yeah, actually I have. It was a girl, one of my classmates. I was 16. She liked me, and I used that to get closer to her brother who was 19 at that time. I kind of had a little crush on him. Obviously he did not care about me and one day this girl got so frustrated with me always coming over but never making a move on her that she actually kissed me.’

‘Did you enjoy it?’ Wooyoung could not help but ask, the words just bursted out of him.

‘At first, no. But then I started imagining her brother and it suddenly felt good. I started coming over even more often, at first it would be awkward but we always ended up kissing. And I always imagined her brother being the one whose lips I was touching.’

‘So what happened next?’ Wooyoung wondered how this story might have ended.

‘My mother died. I changed. She suddenly stopped talking to me. I never got to confess to her brother and in the end, I think it’s better that way.’

Wooyoung nodded slowly. Well, now he had Wooyoung. Now he did not have to imagine someone else being the one who was kissing him.

‘And you? Have you ever kissed before?’

A quick gulp, then he shook his head and he felt his cheeks heat up again. For God’s sake, why was he blushing so much? Was he embarrassed? He never blushed!

‘Never? This was your first? Me—_I_ was your first kiss?’

San suddenly jumped up from his chair, he looked at Wooyoung in complete surprise.

‘Well, yeah. Is it so uncommon to have never kissed with 19?’ Wooyoung groaned, he got upset. Why was it such a big deal anyway? It was not like he had never gotten the chance to kiss someone. If he had wanted it, he could have kissed a hundred people by now. He just chose not to, because no one ever felt good enough for him.

San walked around the table just to kneel in front of Wooyoung. He had a big smile on his face, Wooyoung had never seen that kind of smile on him before. But in that moment, it upset him even more. It seemed as though San was making fun of him, and he hated that.

‘That’s not what I meant, it’s totally fine. I’m just... I’m just so happy that it was me who was the first to ever touch your lips.’

Wooyoung blinked. ‘Oh.’

San took Wooyoung’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on it’s back. Wooyoung then smiled, now he understood. He let his hand rest in San’s and pulled him closer. San put his head onto Wooyoung’s lap, he then closed his eyes while still keeping up that satisfied and happy smile. Wooyoung took his free hand to run it through San’s soft hair. This felt good. He was happy his first kiss went that way. In fact, he could not have found it better. He did not know in what kind of relationship they were or how the kiss would change it. But he did not mind, they did not have to find a definition, they did not have to sit down together and thoroughly talk about it. There was no need, no pressure. They were just themselves and he was just happy.

(by [BaekkieBread](https://twitter.com/BaekkieBread))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  
You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	18. The Photo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Briefly mentions abuse, suicide & death. 
> 
> Hi guys! I’m back! How are all of you doing?  
I hope you all are safe and healthy, stay home as much as you can and try to stay positive.  
I truly wish that I can distract you guys at least for a bit from all this chaos with a new chapter ♥ 
> 
> Make sure to keep an eye on my twitter, I’ll publish the ‘treat’ in the course of this week!
> 
> If everything works out as planned, we’ll have 27/28 chapters in total! (Including pro- and epilogue)
> 
> Have fun with the chapter, thank you all for your love ♡ I love you guys!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 17, The Photo**

**제 17 장 , 사진**

Yunho’s eyes were fixed at the little girl standing in the hallway, staring right back at him. Her eyes torn between curiosity and distrust, he could see it from the way she pressed her tiny body against the door behind her, shoulders hunched almost all the way up to to her ears, moving her bare right foot across the wooden floor in a sweeping motion as if she was trying to clean it. She had been standing there since Detective Park and Yunho had arrived at Mingi’s apartment and had entered his room where they were offered to wait for him as he had not come home yet. In the end, it seemed as though the little tea party at San’s apartment had not been that much of a bad idea, otherwise they would have had to wait for him for hours. Her piercing look bothered Yunho, it almost intimidated him, yet it was only a little child. The girl was six, her mother had told them. Yunho stared right back at her across the hallway, almost with a challenging look as though he called her upon a fight. His hand wrapped around the door handle, slightly pushing it down and then proceeding to close the door, until the small figure disappeared. Yunho fought back a triumphant smile, he did not want to be that childish. Still, he felt more relieved after the eerie sensation of her scowl on his face had finally disappeared. Seonghwa paid him a confused glance, Yunho did not say anything to that and only heard a high pitched voice cry for their mother, followed by the pattering sound of naked feet hitting against the floor.

Then, Yunho could finally devote his attention to Mingi’s room. His first thought: nothing special. It was a typical teenager room, one could argue that Yunho’s room looked the same when he used to lived with his parents. It was held in dark colors with only a few decorative items like action figures that were lined up on top of a shelf and really only seemed to serve as a way to lighten up the cool atmosphere of the room rather than being used as actual toys. Well, but who knew—maybe Mingi still played with them. But what Mingi was probably more interested in nowadays was photography. If Yunho had not known that before, he would have deduced it from the many different kinds of cameras that were displayed on the same shelf that was guarded by the action figures.

Yunho himself did not know much about photography. He appreciated looking at the work of others, but never really found interest in actually taking photos himself. And he was not just talking about professional photos, Yunho was that kind of guy who always turned the other way when spotting a camera. He remembered how his parents always made a game out of looking at family photos from events or weddings. _Where’s Yunho? _they would call it, turning Yunho’s whole existence into a _Where’s Waldo_ knock-off, and rewarding the person to first find Yunho in a picture with a nice piece of meat. Yunho would always get annoyed with them but could not help feel some sense of pride when no one actually managed to detect him in a photo, automatically resulting in Yunho being rewarded the meat. Freaking losers, Yunho was not in the photo to begin with. 

Yunho bit his lips in order to suppress the urge to smile at that memory. He quickly let go of these thoughts, completely focusing on his work again. There were instant cameras, fancy ones, and of course, what Yunho had actually been looking for: the polaroid camera that innocently looked back at him as if it had not contributed to the stalking of a more or less innocent boy. Yeah, of course they were not sure whether Mingi really had something to do with Wooyoung’s vanishing, but hey, they also could not yet prove his innocence. Better safe than sorry, right? Yunho reached for the camera, only to be stopped by Seonghwa’s sharp voice.

‘Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Seonghwa quickly rushed over to Yunho, slapping away his greedy hands. ‘Don’t touch anything. It’s not like we have a search warrant or something like that. Mingi’s only gonna be cooperative if he doesn’t think we’re suspecting him. So don’t touch his stuff, we’re his _friends_, okay?’

Yunho growled, murmuring an almost incomprehensible ‘sure’.

Seonghwa was not wrong, Yunho was just impatient. Rather than touching anything, he just let his eyes wander about the room again. Mingi seemed to like traveling, there were pictures from different places Yunho did not even know the names of stuck on a pin board that was right above his desk with a big computer, a fancy keyboard and headphones that would let anyone look like a professional gamer. The family seemed to be rather well off, despite living in a poorer area. But hey, that did not have to indicate anything. They talked with his mother for a short while, she told them that ever since Mingi spent his year abroad, he had become interested in photography and would also like to find a job in that direction. She said that Mingi usually got into the most different things very easily, but also loses his interest even quicker. She said he had tried out almost every single kind of sports there was, tried to become a skilled painter, even started playing like five different instruments and then proceeded to start off a rapper career before swearing to his parents he would become the deadliest Overwatch player in the whole wondrous world of e-sports until his father smacked his dream out of his mind with his slippers. But photography, somehow it was different to everything Mingi had tried before. After almost a year he did not show any signs of losing his interest. Maybe this really was what he wanted to do. His mother seemed supportive, though, finally happy that Mingi seemed to have found his passion. His father was not home, he was working, so Yunho did not know what he thought about his son’s future plans.

Yunho’s eyes wandered off to the clock. It was getting late. Not that he had anything else to do, no. But he was wondering why Mingi was so late, despite his mother telling them he did not go to any after classes. But then again, maybe he was studying at the library. Maybe he was looking after Wooyoung whom he held captive in an old, abandoned warehouse. Who knew?

He observed Seonghwa who was leaning against the desk now, deeply in thoughts and gnawing on the skin of his fingers. His stare blank, eyes focused on something invisible, something that was not there.

‘What are you thinking about, Detective?’ Yunho could not hold back his question.

‘San.’ Seonghwa still did not look up. ‘I can’t tell if he has changed or not. It’s—it’s weird, somehow. I don’t know.’

Sadly, Yunho could not help him with finding an answer to that. 

‘Detective, what happened to San’s parents? What I could deduce from your conversations didn’t really, how should I say, make any sense to me.’

Honestly, Yunho did not expect Seonghwa to answer his question. It was none of his business, maybe he should not have asked in the first place. But Seonghwa did answer. Maybe he needed someone to talk to.

‘Both of San’s parents died. Not—not at the same time, you know. His mother, she committed suicide. Poor San was 17. I had just started working here in Seoul, just like you, almost.‘

‘Why did she commit suicide?’

Seonghwa finally looked up. His eyes full of distress.

‘San’s father was abusive, mainly towards his mother. It got even worse after he found out that she was having an affair which I can’t blame her for, you know? I guess she couldn’t take it anymore, at least that’s what her suicide note suggested. After her death, San was left alone with his dad. I was still in contact with him, trying to get his father arrested but there just wasn’t enough evidence.’ Seonghwa stopped talking for a while, he took a deep breath and let it out in a loud sigh. ‘Luckily, we were able to arrest him for illegal gambling around two years later and got him to serve at least some time in jail. Had a fatal stroke only a few months after.’

‘So... Those were the good news you both were talking about?’

Seonghwa nodded. ‘San always had a weird way to deal with deaths, his own ways to cope, I guess. When I went to inform San about his father’s death—and I’m not kidding—he smiled. He smiled at me with such joy, such happiness. Never have I seen him smile like that. He even thanked me. I attended his father’s funeral, too. Boy couldn’t stop grinning, people were freaked out. That was also the last day I saw him. I had a really big case ongoing and sadly couldn’t manage to keep an eye on him.’

‘Sounds terrible, though.’ Yunho caught himself feeling guilty for judging San without even really knowing him. Losing your parents at that age under those kind of circumstances messed you up. Yunho did not know whether he would be able to even live a normal life. It seemed to him as though San was much stronger than he was.

‘I know.’ Seonghwa agreed. ‘He’s really such a nice boy, but he’s been through a lot. He’s completely alone now and I don’t know if that’s so good. I wish he had someone in his life. I’m honestly thankful for Hongjoong. I just don’t know if he’s doing really good or really bad.’

Yunho nodded, now seeing everything a little differently. ‘Yeah, I get that—’

Yunho was cut off by loud steps that eerily got louder and louder, completely different from the cute little noises Mingi’s sister made when she ran through the hallway. The door swung open, Mingi’s tall form filling up the door frame completely. His expression partially in shock, partially in anger.

‘What are you doing here?’ He blared out and stepped into the room, then quickly closing the door behind him. Wow, that really was not the right way to start a conversation with police, especially if you were under suspicion. 

‘Hello to you, too, Mingi.’ Seonghwa moved away from the desk, now joining Yunho’s side. The distress on his face had disappeared without a trace, Yunho noticed. Seonghwa was a real professional, huh. ‘Sorry we came without notice.’

Mingi seemed out of breath, he probably came running here after he was told who was waiting for him in his room. And only then, after Mingi put it down on the shelf, Yunho noticed that Mingi had been out with a camera. Not a Polaroid camera, but an expensive looking one. _Well, well, Mingi. What kind of photos were you taking, hm? And where have you been?_

‘It’s about Wooyoung, right? I already told you everything I know. You should really use your time more efficiently, it seems like you got nothing better to do.’

Ouch.

‘It’s a difficult case. We’re doing everything we can to find him but it’s not easy, you know.’

Mingi started laughing. Not in a fun way, no, in a scornful kind of way. ‘You can’t find him, Detective, because he’s not _gone_.’

Yunho watched Mingi’s gestures, his expressions. He looked truly annoyed, eyebrows furrowed in a sorrowful manner, eyes full of disbelief as though he was truly sorry for both detectives that they just could not understand, that they did not fucking get it into their minds that Wooyoung had not been kidnapped but had chosen to run away all by himself. Yunho could not believe him. As much as it would fit Wooyoung’s personality—at least from what he had heard from the people close to him, he did not know him personally after all—Yunho just could not believe that such a young boy actually managed to run away without leaving a trace, without anybody knowing. Just—just think about it: It it not fucking easy to run away. First of all, you would need money. Yeah, Wooyoung’s parents had money, it would have been easy for him to take some with him. However, remember how his purse was still full of money when they found it? Sure, it could have been some kind of mind game: Leaving his money behind on purpose, so it would look like he did not have any while he actually just took another purse with him. But then again, was Wooyoung capable of thinking that far? He was not trying to say Wooyoung was not smart enough but, you know, Yunho did not even know if he himself would think that far if he were in that kind of situation. Anyways, back to it. Next, a place to stay. Maybe he was staying at a Motel, but for that long? That was expensive and he would probably not pay with cash. They would have noticed that. Staying at a sauna? Nope, too many people. So sleepover at a friend’s house? Impossible. Wooyoung was not really that close with anyone besides Yeosang and Mingi, not that they knew of at least. And even if he had a place to stay, he needed food and stuff to survive. He would have to go shopping, people would see him. So this did not add up. He could not have possibly run away without literally, _literally_ no fucking clue.

Yunho snapped back to reality. Whoops. He quickly looked around, trying to catch up with what happened while he had been drifting away in his thoughts. He noticed that the conversation had already advanced. Kind of.

‘...We’re just trying to go through everything again. Back to the beginning. Maybe we missed something.’

Yunho quickly nodded at Seonghwa’s statement to show that he was still there, with them, and participating in the conversation.

‘Again, I told you everything. You’re wasting your time.’ He sighed audibly, then he proceeded to lean against his desk, just like Seonghwa had done it only a few minutes ago, and crossed his arms.

‘But if you really think back, is there really nothing you could tell us? Nothing you might’ve missed? You know, sometimes we think about something as irrelevant while it could be vital for the case.’

Mingi rolled his eyes. ‘No.’

‘Mingi.’ Yunho now stepped in. ‘Where were you today? Taking pictures?’

‘Excuse me?’ Mingi batted his lashes five to six times, lifted his left hand to his ear and tilted his head as though he did not understand what Yunho had just asked him but he did, he understood him perfectly fine. Seonghwa’s head jolted around to Yunho who was standing only a few centimeters behind him, eyes widened. He paid him a warning expression, his lips silently forming words that Yunho interpreted as: _what the fuck are you doing._ But Yunho ignored him.

‘I just asked what you were doing. Do you have a problem with that?’

He saw Mingi’s Adam’s apple move up and down, a muscle in his jaw twitched visibly. ‘No. I don’t have a problem with that.’

‘Great.’ Yunho retorted. ‘Then answer.’

‘Yes. I was out taking photos. Happy now?’ Mingi’s voice only barely got through his tightly clenched teeth.

‘It’s almost completely dark outside. I don’t think that’s optimal for taking photos.’

‘Well, it wasn’t dark when I got out.’

‘Can you show me the pictures then?’

Mingi’s eyebrows shot up, ‘Holy _shit_!’ He moved away from the desk and came closer to Yunho until they stood face to face, glaring at each other. The tension between them so thick you could basically cut it with scissors. ‘I know what you’re doing! You’re accusing me!’

‘Ahh!’ Seonghwa quickly squeezed his body in between the two but he was clearly drowned by their heights. Seonghwa seemed like a little tree in between two skyscrapers. Still, his charming laugh caught Mingi’s attention. ‘Let’s calm down, alright? We’re not accusing you, Mingi. No way.’ His head turned to Yunho, his smile fainting. ‘You shut the hell up for a sec, okay?’

‘No! Of course you’re accusing me! What the fuck!’ Mingi’s voice got louder, but he stepped back a few centimeters and walked over to his camera and took it from the shelf. ‘Fine. Look at the pictures, search my whole fucking room if you have to, I don’t care. If that makes you realize that I have absolutely nothing to do with this, please. Go the fuck on.’

‘Okay, now you calm down, too!’ Ah, see there, Seonghwa was getting angry! ‘If I catch you swearing once more your ass is gonna walk straight to the police station with us!’

Silence. Mingi bit his lips. Yunho also did not dare to say anything. Seonghwa could get freaking scary. Well, it was not like he had not heard about Seonghwa’s little outbursts from other colleagues, but still he did not really want to experience them first hand. And this also only seemed like something minor, he could bet Seonghwa could get much louder and scarier than that.

‘First of all, Jung.’ He turned to Yunho, pointing his finger at his face. ‘I’m tolerating you here. So far I’ve let you do everything you wanted but I’m still your boss. If I tell you how we’re doing things you follow. Stop being so damn unprofessional. Got it?’

Yunho nodded.

‘And you.’ Now facing Mingi, Seonghwa still held up his finger. ‘We’re trying to do our work. You’re not being very cooperative, which makes us suspicious, that’s our job. I don’t care what you think Wooyoung did, I doesn’t even matter what I think. My job is to find him, and so I will do exactly that. So be cooperative.’

Mingi nodded.

‘Good.’ Seonghwa sighed, he ran his hand across his forehead in order to straighten the creases that had appeared on it, his eyes closed for a moment. Yunho thought maybe he was trying to calm himself down as well. If he dared say—an outburst like that was not very professional either. However, Yunho did not say it was the incorrect thing to do. Seonghwa then opened his eyes again, he suddenly looked much calmer now and Yunho felt like it was safe to breathe again. ‘Now, would you please show us the pictures on your camera?’

Again, Mingi nodded and turned on the camera. He held it out to Seonghwa who took it in both of his hands, carefully, knowing it was an expensive device.

‘You can look through all the footage. Here—’ His finger pointed at a little button that was on the right to the display. ‘Press there to go to the next picture.’

Seonghwa nodded and walked over to Yunho to go through the pictures together.

What Yunho saw, well, how should he say it? He was not sure whether what he saw made him happy or sad. Was he relieved or disappointed? Most of the pictures showed buildings, nature. There were nice paintings on walls, colorful and bright street signs, crowds of people in school uniforms where everyone looked the same. There were pictures of just everything. Everything except Wooyoung. And Yunho did not know how to feel about it. Of course, it did not prove that Mingi was innocent. But... but it really freaking looked like it. But he really—he really thought this time they were onto something.

‘So?’ Mingi’s voice let both of the detectives look up from the display. ‘Does that say enough?’

Seonghwa sighed, he handed him the camera after they had reached the last picture that was on it. ‘I guess so. We apologize for causing you any inconvenience.’

‘It’s fine.’ Mingi then said after turning off the camera and putting it away. ‘I understand that you’re only trying to do your job. I just...I just really think that Wooyoung is fine.’

Yeah, maybe he was. 

‘That’s possible, and I truly hope he is. But our job is not about taking any chances. We can’t be sure of anything before we find any evidence.’ Seonghwa then clapped into his hands, indicating the end of their conversation. ‘We should get going, then. If you really don’t have anything to say. Sorry again.’

Seonghwa turned on his heels and made his way to the door, Yunho paid Mingi a last glance before joining Seonghwa’s direction. He seemed a bit lost in thoughts. Seonghwa put his hand on the door handle, he pressed it down—

‘Wait.’

Mingi’s voice let both of them stop in motion. Their heads turned simultaneously but Mingi avoided their eyes. A deep sigh left his lips before he started speaking again.

‘I...guess there was a little something.’ Before Seonghwa nor Yunho could retort anything, he quickly lifted both of his hands in a defending pose, wiggling them in front of his face. ‘I—I don’t really think it’s anything I just—you know. Maybe.’

Seonghwa’s hands slipped away from the handle. ‘What are you waiting for? Tell us.’

‘Alright so—You know that I was the one who busted Wooyoung’s lie, right? I knew he lied because I saw him hurt himself the other day before pretending he was attacked by this alleged stalker. I was really shocked when I saw it, but I wasn’t the only one. There was someone else. He, uhm, I think he was a bit older. I saw he had white hair. He was looking at Wooyoung as well, I swear he saw what he had done, too.’

‘Okay, and how should that help?’

‘I don’t know if it does, you know. But...he was carrying a camera. When I turned to him, he quickly got away. Of course I didn’t think much of it—I still don’t think it’s of any importance but... I don’t know. That’s what I saw.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us immediately?’ Yunho then asked, Mingi shrugged at that.

‘At first I really forgot about it. But then people started thinking he might’ve really gotten kidnapped or something and then this man came into my mind again and I just—I was afraid that there really was a stalker and that eventually his vanishing was my fault...That everything could’ve been prevented if I hadn’t persuaded everyone that Wooyoung was lying.’

‘It’s not your fault, Mingi. But what you told us is maybe really important. Do you know what day that was?’ Seonghwa got his notepad out.

‘I’m not sure, I’m sorry. It was a few weeks ago. But it was maybe 20 minutes before 8 in the morning. I could give you the exact street name as well.’ Mingi held out his hand in suggestion to take the notepad. Seonghwa gave it to him and let him write down the address and the time.

‘Why were you there from the beginning, though? You wouldn’t usually cross paths with Wooyoung when you’re on your way to school, right?’ Yunho then asked. Maybe there was still a chance, you know.

‘That’s true. But I wanted to accompany him, he really did a great job pretending to be afraid—or he really was afraid, I don’t know. So I decided to walk with him that day. I really wanted Wooyoung to like me, so I tried to be there for him.’

Seonghwa nodded. ‘Alright, thank you. This helped a lot. Don’t worry, Mingi. It really isn’t your fault. We’ll bring him back soon, okay?’

Mingi just nodded back and bowed a little before he watched both detectives leave his room and eventually the apartment. 

*

Hongjoong groaned. He let his body sink onto his chair and leaned back, eyes pinned at the ceiling. He wondered if this was going to get better. He had not made any progress in the past few days. There was nothing. He really did not think this case was going to be that difficult. Today was the nth time he was talking to his parents (or at least he was trying to) and he could literally smell their annoyance as soon as they saw Hongjoong at their door, grinning at them like an idiot while asking them if they had a minute. _Again_. He had never seen such uncooperative parents before. He could not grasp how they could act this unbothered while their son was who knew where, maybe hurt, maybe not even alive anymore. But hey, work was more important, right? Because you could not replace money, but you could replace your only son, agreed? Only thinking about Wooyoung’s parents let Hongjoong boil with anger. He had really believed they were concerned, at least they did a really good job acting like that in their public appeal. Hongjoong was impressed. But no, reality was different. It almost even seemed as though they were happy not to have any distraction, no child to feed at home. Sometimes he wondered why people even chose to have a child.

He groaned again.

There was no use complaining about his parents, simply because this was not about his parents. You know, with their money, he bet they could have gotten way farther with the investigation, but it was fine. Hongjoong just had to do that himself then. But it was not easy, it really was not. He did not find anything, there was not even anything relevant writing about. Police also did not find out anything new. What were they supposed to do?

Hongjoong finally managed to lift his heavy body even just a bit to turn on his computer. Maybe he could compile all the information he had again, maybe he missed something. They had to be missing something, this just could not be. 

He waited for his computer to boot, then he opened all his notes and organized them on his display. Looking at everything all at once, he felt even more clueless. But still, he tried to focus. He looked at everything he had, everything he knew. He wondered if the detectives had found out anything new by now. He truly hoped so.

‘Ah.’ Hongjoong remembered the picture he saw while showing the detectives San’s photography skills. He did not know the picture, San must have found it on the Internet, and he wanted to add it to the collection of photos for the story.

It did not take long until Hongjoong found the picture again. He smiled, Wooyoung was a really pretty boy. The picture, however, did not seem to be very up to date. In it, Wooyoung seemed to have his natural black hair color, not the blonde one, and he was wearing a shirt. Maybe it was around summer? Hongjoong wondered where he got the picture from. While Hongjoong added it to the folder with the other pictures, he remembered something.

When did San add the picture to his computer? He had been off work, and when he came to visit San to tell him about the story, he did not seem to have known about it before then. But you know, maybe he did? Maybe he had read an article about it and saved the picture, maybe he wanted to tell Hongjoong about it and just forgot. He smiled, yeah, probably. San was really nice, maybe he just forgot to mention that when they saw each other. But when he looked at the data information of the photograph, Hongjoong frowned. He frowned when he looked at the date when the picture was added to San’s photo collection. 

_ August 3, 2018 _

Wait, what?

Suddenly, Hongjoong thought about the day when he went to visit San. How he did not want to let him in. San had seemed so upset. He never was that rude. Especially not to his Hyung.

Maybe—nah, this was ridiculous!

But San did not know about Wooyoung’s case before Hongjoong told him about it.

It could not possibly be, right...?

But then how come a picture of Wooyoung was added over a year ago? To San’s personal works?

Hongjoong’s heart beat in chest, quickly, unevenly. Every single muscle of his body stretched as he quickly opened the internet browser and put Wooyoung’s photo into an image search, with shaky hands, in hopes to find an article or something where they had used the picture before, where San could have possibly taken it from.

_ Loading... _

Please, please, there had to be something.

_ Loading... _

An article, maybe from his social media, school newspaper—?

_ Loading... _

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as the results came up on the screen. The results being nothing. Zero. No pictures found, no articles.

‘No...’ Hongjoong only whispered, too afraid to do more than that. ‘San, please...’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	19. Truth and Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good day sweethearts!!  
Have f u n with the chapter! Hope everyone’s doing okay :)
> 
> If you haven’t seen yet, there’s a trailer for this fic now!  
You can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
Make sure to watch in HD and I really hope you like it c:

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

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**Chapter 18, Truth and Lie**

**제 18 장 , 진실과 거짓말**

Wooyoung’s eyes opened to the touch of soft lips against his forehead, cheeks, and then his neck. What was happening? All he could see in front of his eyes was a great shock of blonde hair pressing onto his skin and tickling his nose. He could not help but smile at the fact that San was already awake, tightly holding onto Wooyoung and kissing his skin softly and carefully not to wake him up. Wooyoung was San’s centre of attention even when he was asleep, how beautiful was that? Could this get any better? Wooyoung smiled at that thought and slowly put his hands to San’s cheeks, lifting his head slightly so he could see his face. And there they were, his innocent, dark eyes looking straight at Wooyoung, surprised at the fact that he was awake.

‘I’m sorry, did I wake you up?’ His voice barely audible and filled with guilt.

‘It’s fine.’ Wooyoung retorted. ‘I liked being woken up like this.’

He offered San a smile which he reciprocated without hesitation. Wooyoung wondered if this was how couples felt when they woke up next to each other. Was it always like that? Was it always waking up to the sensation of soft lips pressed against your skin, caressing you and holding you tight? If it really was like that, Wooyoung never wanted it to go away. He wanted to start into the day like that every morning. Looking at San, Wooyoung wondered if he had felt any different if someone else had been the one next to him. Was it really just the attention and the kisses that made this morning so special or was it the fact that San was the person doing all that? Wooyoung tried to imagine someone else next to him, someone else cuddling and kissing him. But as much as he tried, he could not imagine anyone else’s face. All he could see was San. Wherever he looked, over and over again. Was that a good thing? And what was it that Wooyoung was feeling? He sure had feelings for San, he felt _something_ when looking at him, but what exactly was it? Love? This could not already be love, could it? But how would Wooyoung know? Never in his life had he experienced this concept of love, so how could he possibly know? Thinking about this made Wooyoung crazy. He had already spent the whole night trying to figure out what that was between them, if it even was anything. He wondered how San felt about this. What was San thinking? Did he think they were in a relationship? Did he want that? Did _Wooyoung_ want that? Wooyoung could imagine that this was everything San ever wanted but did not even dare dream of. His insides must be flooded with emotions, urgently trying to figure out how to contain them and where to put them. Wooyoung wondered how that must feel. He was sure that for San it was love.

Wooyoung did not want to think about this anymore. He rather wanted to _experience_ it. Maybe that could help defining whatever emotions his heart was going through. He rolled San’s body onto his back and quickly crawled on top of him to prevent San from getting up. He immediately felt San’s hands on his hips, pulling him closer to his warm body.

‘How did you sleep, hm?’ Wooyoung asked him, leaving a trail of kisses along his neckline. San answered him with a soft sigh and a quiet ‘perfect’, causing Wooyoungs lips to curl up in a satisfied smile. Yeah, he had slept perfectly fine as well. He worked his way up to San’s face again, wanting to kiss him on his lips. He closed his eyes when he reached them, loving their soft touch on his own lips. It seemed like it was true what people said, that kissing was addictive. Wooyoung could finally say that he now understood what they meant. He did not want to part from San and from the soft grip of his hands that kept pulling Wooyoung closer and closer until their bodies were pressed against each other’s so that not even a sheet of paper could fit in between them and it felt so weird, so new, but in no way bad. In contrary, he loved this intimate feeling. He loved how their lips danced together, how easy it was to follow the steps when you kissed the person you wanted to kiss, and how—  


_ Knock, knock, knock.  _

They both abruptly broke the connection of their lips, quickly turning their heads to the apartment door. 

‘Am I hearing things or did someone just knock on the door?’ Wooyoung’s voice had immediately turned into a whisper. San shook his head, assuring him that he had heard it too. Their eyes were pinned at the door, both of them too scared to breathe, let alone move an inch.

_ Knock. Knock, knock. _

Wooyoung started at that sound, his fingers digging into San’s poor, poor skin. Who the hell was that? Wooyoung was sure it was still early in the morning, so who could possibly go and visit San? Maybe—

_Oh!_ Wooyoung’s fear suddenly disappeared. _Oh, my God. Of course!_

‘Yoojin!’ He said, finally breaking away his eyes from the apartment door and looking at San. ‘That must be Yoojin!’

San’s eyebrows furrowed, now also looking back at Wooyoung. ‘Why would it be Yoojin?’

‘Well—’ Wooyoung remembered how he had not told San about his encounter with Yoojin and the fact that he had invited him over to play, because Yoojin knew who Wooyoung was. He blinked. ‘You know, cake. Maybe his mum brought cake.’

Right, that was plausible. Wooyoung got off of San, enabling him to get up and walk towards the door. He pointed at it and tilted his head as though he meant to say “should I open it?” Wooyoung looked around. There was still a chance that this was not Yoojin, so he would still needed to at least disappear from view. So Wooyoung got up and hid behind the wall, next to the entrance to the living room. He peeped out his head from behind and nodded at San, giving him the permission to open the door, before he turned away again and hid. He tried to soothe his pounding heart by telling himself it was Yoojin, that it had to be him. No one else would come here so early in the morning, right? _Right?_

He heard how the door opened, slowly, maybe even just an inch. Silence for a split second. Then—

‘Hongjoong?!’

Wooyoungs heart dropped. _What? Hongjoong?_ His eyes widened. _Holy shit, _Hongjoong! Why Hongjoong? Why was he here? Was he not busy trying to find Wooyoung, trying to write his story about him? Especially so early in the morning! Well, unless—Wooyoung’s heart beat in his chest. Oh God, what if—? His head turned to the entrance, but he did not dare move closer to catch a glimpse. He heard how San asked him why he was here and how Hongjoong told him he wanted to talk. _To talk_. Wooyoung recognized his distinct voice, however today, it sounded different. It sounded serious, almost angry, which was the complete opposite of how he sounded when Wooyoung had first heard his voice. Was he onto them? Did he _know_?

‘Ah.’ Wooyoung detected San’s voice. ‘I’m really busy now. Can’t we talk later? You could’ve just called me.’

‘San, move aside.’

Gosh, Hongjoong sounded even scarier than when San was angry!

‘We can talk outside if you want? I could really catch some fresh air—’

‘Why won’t you let me in, huh? Is it because you’re hiding something? Because you’re hiding a _body_, maybe?’

He knew.

Holy shit, _he knew_. Wooyoung felt his knees getting weak, why was it suddenly so hot in here? Had it suddenly become summer? Some forty degrees? Wooyoung fanned himself with his hand, he was trying to force himself to breathe calmly. _We got this, just think. Think what you could do_, he thought to himself, pressing his hands against his mouth, trying to find a solution that could actually work. What was San thinking of now??

‘Wait, what’re you talking about?’ At least San seemed to be a good liar. Wooyoung taught him. 

‘You know exactly what I’m talking about.’ A menacing pause. ‘Where’s Wooyoung?’

_ Fuck, fuck! Think, Wooyoung, think of something! _

‘What do you mean, Hyung—’

‘Don’t you hit me with that hyung! I’m not your hyung. If you don’t explain yourself immediately I swear, San, I swear to God and my parents I’ll call the cops.’

No! _No, no, no!_ No cops! Fuck! Shit! If the police came that would be the end. It would be the end for San, for Wooyoung’s story and...it would be the end for them as one. No more kisses, no more special mornings. No more cute birthdays, no more beautiful words, no more sparkling eyes that he could look into. No San. He did not want to go. He did not want to leave San right now. Why was someone trying to destroy everything again?! Why was there always someone who had to disrupt Wooyoung’s beautiful world?! That was not fair, not again. Not his parents, not the cops, not Mingi, no, not even Hongjoong. He would not let anyone else take his happiness away.

Wooyoung’s mind went completely blank. He felt like a robot, like someone was steering him to come out from behind the wall, as if he did not have any control over his body whatsoever.

‘Wait.’ Wooyoung’s voice was calm but it still managed to shush San’s attempts to protest against Hongjoong’s claims. He silenced everyone. ‘Let him in.’

Both heads turned to him, he could not say who looked more shocked. San, with his widened eyes that looked at Wooyoung in such a hurtful way as if they could speak to him? Wooyoung knew that San wanted to ask him why? Why he was doing this? Or was it Hongjoong, whom he now saw for the first time with his notorious red hair, his dropped jaw and raised eyebrows. He never imagined him to look like that, but he thought he was pretty. He was slightly smaller than San, but something about him made him still seem superior. When their gazes met, Hongjoong’s eyes grew even bigger, his lips trembled, trying to form words.

‘Wooyoung?!’ There it was, the first word he spoke to him. ‘You’re—You—Here?!’

San made an attempt to walk towards Wooyoung, but Hongjoong was quicker. He pushed San aside and reached Wooyoung first. Their eyes met again before Hongjoong turned around in front of him, guarding him from San like some sort of shield. Even if Wooyoung had been in danger, he probably would not have felt very protected. Hongjoong may have looked very menacing, but could he really overpower San? Maybe? Maybe San was the weak one in this battle?

‘Don’t worry, Wooyoung. I can protect you. Everything will be fine. I will call the police now and then you can come home, I promise!’

While Hongjoong was speaking, his eyes were attentively pinned at San, registering every single move he made. But San was quiet, maybe he was hurt? He looked hurt, Wooyoung could see it. And Wooyoung did not want to see that. He did not want to be rescued or protected if it was not San who did it. He did not want to go home. Why would he want that?

‘No.’ Wooyoung’s firm voice let Hongjoong’s head spin around and look at him shocked. ‘I’m not in danger. So no need to call the police.’ His head turned to San. ‘San, could you close the door? It’s cold.’

Without hesitation, San nodded and closed the door. Did he seem more relaxed? Wooyoung could not quite tell as his eyes moved back to Hongjoong who was staring at him in such shock, you could say even more shock than when he had seen Wooyoung appear in front of his eyes for the first time. Wooyoung just turned around and walked into the living room, moving aside the blankets from the floor.

‘Come in and we can talk about it.’ He then said and moved the little coffee table to the middle of the room. Hongjoong stared at him confused, but still got into the room and sat down on one side of the table, but he did so rather reluctantly. His eyes constantly moving between Wooyoung’s and San’s. He did not seem at all menacing anymore, it felt like he had shrunk to the size of an ant. Wooyoung’s heart was still pounding like crazy, but he tried to keep calm. He had to be calm in order to keep Hongjoong relaxed too and prevent him from acting irrational and ending up calling the police. Wooyoung sat down opposite to him, then his head turned to San who really did not look happy about the picture he was looking at: The missing boy and the person who was looking for him in the same room. But San had to remain calm as well, so Wooyoung offered him a reassuring smile, trying to tell him that he got it and that everything was fine. Wooyoung did not know if everything was fine, probably because it was not, but maybe everything would work out if he just believed in it. ‘San, could you make some tea?’

San’s eyes turned to Wooyoung who was still smiling at him and looked at him unsure, unwilling to leave him alone with Hongjoong in this kind of situation. But Wooyoung knew what he was doing, somehow, so he just nodded at him, suggesting him that it was fine and that he should go. And so he did, because San did whatever Wooyoung told him to do. Only seconds after San had disappeared into the kitchen, Wooyoung felt Hongjoong’s tight grip around his wrist, trying to pull him onto his feet.

‘Now, let’s go!’ Hongjoong urged him with a quiet but pressuring voice, Wooyoung did not move an inch, however. ‘What’re you doing? We can leave now, quick!’

Wooyoung groaned, collecting all his strength to break free from Hongjoong’s shockingly tight grip.

‘I told you I didn’t need to escape! Would you please listen to me?’ Wooyoung hissed and forced Hongjoong to sit down again.

‘I don’t understand, Wooyoung.’ He retorted. ‘You—Weren’t you kidnapped? Didn’t San force you to go with him?’

Well, what should he say? The truth? Which was something he did not do very often. But if he lied, everything would get even worse, wouldn’t it? If he told Hongjoong that San did kidnap him, that would be his end. But if he told him the truth, that Wooyoung was the mastermind behind everything, that would probably destroy his wonderful plan. But then again, did he still need it? Did he need that plan that promised him dangerous attention when he could get sweet, sweet attention from San? Was there still use for it?

He took a deep breath.

‘No.’ Wooyoung leaned forward and propped his elbow on the little table, repeatedly brushing through his hair. ‘Actually, I kind of forced San to let me live here.’

Wow, telling the truth sure felt weird. 

‘What?’ Hongjoong looked utterly confused.

Again, a deep sigh from Wooyoung’s side.

‘This stalker thing, it was a lie, you know? Not real. It was just me trying to gain attention from literally anyone. And it worked, it worked perfectly fine until, you know, Mingi.’ Gosh, only mentioning that name made Wooyoung angry. ‘Mingi exposed me, destroyed my plan and literally everything I had. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I ended up here.’

‘But—But San knew about you, didn’t he? I know he did!’

Wooyoung nodded. ‘Yeah, well. He did kind of stalk me. But Hongjoong, I swear, I want to be here. San never did anything wrong, he never forced me to anything, never hurt me. He’d even let me go if I wanted to—but I don’t.’

Was that a lie again? Did he lie again? Because he knew San would not let him go, he had said so himself. But it was okay since Wooyoung did not _want_ to leave anyways.

‘I...Wooyoung I can’t believe you.’

Ah, what?

It was kind of a sure thing that people did not believe in Wooyoung’s lies anymore, but right now he was telling the truth! Why did Hongjoong not believe him? Why, that did not make any sense! He did not have any reason not to believe him! Wooyoung’s eyes glimpsed at the little children’s book in the corner of the room. _The boy who cried wolf._ He closed his eyes for a moment to restrain himself from rolling them. What a damn irony. So in the end, it did not matter what he said. People did not believe him anyway. The only one who believed him was San.

‘Wooyoung, look. It doesn’t matter what’s true or not but...everyone’s looking for you. Police, your friends, your...parents.’

Ah, ah. Wooyoung noticed him hesitating before saying the last word. This cursed word.

‘Listen, I don’t care, okay? All I want is to stay here with San, in peace, without anyone getting in between us.’

‘But—You know I have to call the police, I have to do it.’

Ah, Wooyoung was slowly getting angry. He sighed and moved closer to Hongjoong, he would not let anyone destroy this. Not again.

‘Hyung.’ He murmured. ‘You know that police won’t believe me, right? So you know that when you report us now, San is going to prison, you do know that, right, Hyung?’ Wooyoung let out a loud, pitiful sigh while watching how Hongjoong’s Adam’s apple moved up and down in a hard gulp. ‘I wonder how long San would last in this cruel prison, without anyone caring for him, looking after him. But hey, he should be fine, right, because he already has no one.’

‘...He has me?’ Hongjoong’s voice was quiet and unsure, only making Wooyoung stronger.

He got even closer, up to the point where their faces almost touched. ‘Does he, _Hyung_, does he really? Because to me, a hyung wouldn’t let his younger brother go to prison for a crime he didn’t do˜.’

Woah, Wooyoung got the chills from himself! While he cheekily smiled at Hongjoong, he saw how his shocked facial expression went through a broad range of emotions. Shock, confusion, pity, anger. Defeat.

Wooyoung only felt one thing. Victory. He won.

When Wooyoung heard San come into the room again, he brought distance between him an Hongjoong and again, smiled at San and thanked him for the tea. Wooyoung grabbed his arm and forced San to sit right next to him. Their shoulders brushed against each other’s, Wooyoung innocently took San’s hand and looked back to Hongjoong. His expression blank, but Wooyoung knew thousands of thoughts went through his head right now.

‘Did you explain...?’ San’s voice sounded sweeter than ever.

Wooyoung nodded. ‘Yes. And Hongjoong understands. He won’t tell police, everything’s fine, right?’

Hongjoong hesitated. He bit his lips.

‘Yes.’ He then proceeded to say, offering Wooyoung a glance that could kill. ‘I won’t go to the police.’

San’s eyes widened, a bright smile appeared on his lips. ‘What? Really? Hyung, thank you so much. Damn, I was so scared.’

Wooyoung chuckled and nodded, loving the feeling of San’s forehead pressed against his shoulder, his genuinely relieved smile brushing against the fabric of the shirt, and how lovingly tight he held Wooyoung’s hand. Yes, it was worth it. No matter whether he had told the truth or had lied to Hongjoong, it had been worth it. He had done the right thing, and for the first time in his life he also felt like it. It seemed as though what was true and what not amalgamated into one big confusing medley that was not important to them anymore. The outcome was what counted, and it was Wooyoung being with San and the other way around. He gently stroked San’s cheek, he could not imagine how scared _he_ must have been feeling when Wooyoung already nearly peed himself. Lately, San was going through ups and downs and Wooyoung honestly was not sure how long he could bear that. But if Wooyoung just stuck around and did not leave him, would that not make everything okay again? That was the least Wooyoung could do for San.

‘But San why...didn’t you tell me, hm?’ Hongjoong’s question made San’s head move away from Wooyoung’s shoulder, he looked hurt while Hongjoong’s face was filled with disappointment.

‘I thought you wouldn’t understand. And then at the same time you were so enthusiastic about the story, I didn’t want to destroy it.’

‘Well, I guess I can forget about the story now.’ Hongjoong groaned. ‘Look, you two. I’m not happy about this. And I also don’t approve. But you have my word when I say I won’t go to police. I’m not doing this for you, Wooyoung, but for you, San, because you’re my friend. I guess I’m just happy that you’re alright and safe, Wooyoung. In the end that’s what I hoped for. What I’m telling you, though, is that you guys need another solution. Police don’t seem to be on your trail _right now_ but that can change very quickly. And like you already pointed out, Wooyoung, they won’t believe shit. So think of something. Find a way for the both of you to be happy.’

He was right. They never imagined Hongjoong to find them, let alone that quickly. And he was not even police, so who knew if they were already suspecting San? They could bust into the apartment any second and they would not know. So living here was not a permanent solution, even Wooyoung knew that. And he believed that San knew that, too. But then again, for Wooyoung to return home was not a solution either. Sure, he could return home now—alone—and tell his parents he just ran away for a few weeks because he was an angry teen. He would start living a normal life again while also secretly meeting San. He could do that, yes. But he won’t. Simply because he did not want to. He did not want to see his parents anymore, he did not want to see Mingi or Yeosang (Yeosang, did he really not want to—) and also, he would get into trouble with police, they would start asking him a bunch of questions like: Where did you stay, how did you dye your hair, where did you get the money from, how did you keep yourself nurtured and then some. Wooyoung would not know a single answer to any of those questions. Yeah, he could probably come up with something. But he did not want to. He wanted to stay with San, alone, just like that. They would find another solution. 

‘The hair suits you, it’s a good disguise I guess.’ Hongjoong then said after both of them assured him they would think about something. Wooyoung smiled and nodded, saying it was San’s idea. ‘You really did a good job running away, they have no clue whatsoever.’

‘Well, how did you find out, then?’

‘By simply putting one and one together. If I dare say so, San was careless enough to upload a picture of you from 2018 to his files on the computer which, if I may add, is in my office and I have access to. Then, San didn’t want to let me in his apartment last time and I couldn’t figure out why. Well, now I know.’

‘But that didn’t really have to mean that he kidnapped or stalked me.’

‘No, that’s why I didn’t come here immediately after I found out. I thought about it the whole night, I thought about every single thing that San has ever said to me or asked me. And the more I thought about it, the clearer it got. All the little things just kind of aligned. And, well. I guess I just know San too well.’

This kind of calmed Wooyoung down. Sure, what San did seemed suspicious and could lead police here, but not necessarily. Because in contrast to Hongjoong, they did not really know San personally, except this one detective. But it was fine, they would not find out about the picture on San’s computer because Hongjoong could simply delete it.

‘Could you—’

‘I will get rid of the photo, yes.’

San smiled at Hongjoong, but Hongjoong did not smile back. He probably was really torn between deciding whether what he was doing was right and if it was the best for his friend. But hey, in the end, Wooyoung believed he was doing the right thing by not telling police. Sometimes the right way did not always have to be the right way, just because more people expected you to do it. Sometimes it was worth doing a favor for someone who you know deserved it. San was that someone. Wooyoung did not care if Hongjoong liked him, he did not need to like Wooyoung. And Wooyoung also did not need to like Hongjoong. What was important was the bond between San and Hongjoong that refrained Hongjoong from ratting his best friend out. 

‘What about my parents, though? I saw the public appeal and, this might be TMI, but it’s been a damn long time since my mother cried for me and—’

‘Don’t—’ Hongjoong raised his hand, signaling Wooyoung to stop talking. ‘Don’t think about this appeal. Forget it. Erase it from your memory. I probably shouldn’t say this but it’s nothing more than a lie.’

‘I know that.’ Wooyoung quickly retorted but he could not ignore the incredibly hurtful sensation of a prick drilling a hole into his heart. _Ouch_. He knew that his parents did not love him, he knew it, and apparently everyone else knew it as well, but hey, it was fine. It was okay. Wooyoung did not care. He really, uhm, yeah, he did not care _at all_. 

‘But your friend, Yeosang.’ Wooyoung quickly looked up. ‘I talked to him a lot. As much as he refused to admit that he misses you...I can see how hurt he is. He feels very guilty, maybe you should know that instead.’

That...was fairly new. Sure, Wooyoung knew that Yeosang was this warm, thoughtful and caring person that would rather break his own heart than hurt anyone else, but after Wooyoung’s lie came out, he did not believe Yeosang could ever feel something other than disappointment or resentment towards Wooyoung again. But that was exactly what Wooyoung wanted, yeah? For Yeosang to feel guilty for how he treated Wooyoung. Weird, how knowing this did not make Wooyoung feel better at all.

‘Well. That’s all I have to say. I’ll keep an eye on you guys, I’m still not very sure about this whole situation. But nonetheless, if you need something, let me know. Since I won’t be working on the story anymore, I expect you to be in the office during your regular working hours, aight?’

San nodded and got up after Hongjoong made his way to the apartment door, Wooyoung also joined them.

‘Good luck.’ He said, looking at Wooyoung. ‘And don’t you guys think I’m blind, I know _exactly_ what’s going on between you two.’

Wooyoung blinked. Well, please go on, do tell us, mighty Hongjoong, because Wooyoung himself did not even know what the hell was between them. 

He raised his hand and winked at them before disappearing outside. San closed the door behind him, then he turned to Wooyoung.

‘My knees are so weak, Wooyoung.’ He whispered.

Wooyoung nodded, walking up to him. ‘I know, I know that.’

He wrapped his hands around San’s waist, pulling him into a tight hug. He felt how San’s fingers grabbed onto the fabric on Wooyoung’s shirt, urgently searching for support that Wooyoung is more than willing to give. He closed his eyes and softly stroked his head.

But somehow, all Wooyoung could think of was Yeosang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	20. Yeosang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys! Are you all doing well? ♡ 
> 
> I’m back with a chapter and I’m also working on a playlist for this fic!  
This might be a little late but...better later than never, am I right?c:
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
And otherwise I hope you have lots of fun with this week’s chapter!!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 19, Yeosang**

**제 19 장 , 여상**

He found it...unfair, almost. It was unfair how ever since Hongjoong had burst into the apartment and mentioned this person, how ever since he said this name that Wooyoung so desperately tried to erase from his memory, he still could not stop thinking about him. Because why, when he truly believed he resented that person, why was he nagging him so much? Why was his face always appearing in front of Wooyoung’s eyes when he closed them? And why was it happening even while San was showering Wooyoung with attention? How unfair it was to Wooyoung, and how unfair it was to San.

It had been exactly one day after Hongjoong had been here, one day after he had found out about them and luckily, nothing really had changed. In other words: Hongjoong had kept his promise. So far, at least. But he had done his damage. That night, both of them did not sleep very good, not even very much. But Wooyoung believed they were kept awake for different reasons. San had to calm down from this wild roller coaster ride of emotions that he had been on for the past few days and Wooyoung, well, he was busy figuring out whether Hongjoong had told the truth about Yeosang or if he just said Yeosang was sad about Wooyoung’s disappearance just for him to change his mind and make him return home. And it bothered him. Not knowing what was the truth bothered Wooyoung much more than the fact that his own parents seemed rather relieved than sad about not knowing where their son was. This just made Wooyoung even more sure about this whole ‘plan’. It reinforced his desire to stay with San instead of going home.

But Yeosang. Yeah, _Yeosang_.

He could not believe how he was currently thinking of Yeosang while San’s precious lips were pressed against his own, with his sneaky hands all over Wooyoung’s body. It was not even like he pretended that he was kissing Yeosang, no, never, but he could not stop thinking about whether Yeosang was sad about his disappearance or not. He could not stop thinking back to when things were normal. He could not stop thinking about Yeosang’s sincere laughter whenever Wooyoung said something. No matter what he said, if it was the truth, if it was a sneaky lie. He laughed. And he believed him. He never questioned Wooyoung. If it had not been for Mingi, Yeosang would probably still believe Wooyoung. He wondered why Yeosang had believed Mingi so easily when they had only known each other for a few weeks. Yeosang and Wooyoung had been friends for years, was it so easy to throw that all away? Just like that, like their friendship had never existed in the first place? So why should he be caring about him now? What was the truth?!

Wooyoung groaned and pulled away from San’s soft lips. This was annoyingly frustrating. He leaned his head back, blankly staring at the ceiling.

‘Are you okay?’ He heard San ask while gently stroking up and down Wooyoung’s side. ‘I noticed you’re a bit absentminded. What’s bothering you?’

Should he tell? What if San got upset? Wooyoung looked at San, he opened his mouth but actually saying something was hard. Suddenly he began to feel uncomfortable sitting on San’s lap like that while _he_ was the one who sat down there in the first place. San’s curious eyes only amplified Wooyoung’s insecurity, so he quickly avoided his glance, looking down to his hands that were fiddling with San’s shirt. Why was this so difficult?

‘It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Wooyoung. I don’t want to pressure you.’

Then why did he feel so pressured? Why did his heart feel so heavy?

‘No, it’s—I want to talk.’ Wooyoung then said, not sure if he actually meant it, though.

San nodded. He still had not stopped moving his hands across the fabric on Wooyoung’s skin and oddly enough, it did calm Wooyoung down.

‘Is it your family you’re thinking about, or is it Yeosang?’

Wooyoung blinked, his head jolted up. ‘How do you know?’

‘Because I know you, darling.’ San said and Wooyoung could not help but blush at that pet name. Oh, he really liked that.

‘It bothers me that I know so little about you while you seem to know me better than I know myself.’

San smiled at that. ‘We can change that. But first I want to see you smile again, I can’t bear seeing you unhappy.’

‘I’m not unhappy.’ Wooyoung sighed. ‘It’s just that—Somehow, Yeosang’s face just pops up in my head all the time and it bothers me. I’m constantly asking myself whether what Hongjoong said was the truth because I don’t really believe it. I don’t even know why it bothers me that much, I don’t want that. I don’t want to see his face ever again. I just want to forget about him.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ San then asked, Wooyoung just looked at him confused.

‘Of course I’m sure! Yeosang backstabbed me.’ Wooyoung had not noticed how his voice had gotten louder again, as though he felt the need to defend himself against San’s words.

‘Yes, and you didn’t see that coming. That’s why you’re hurting.’ San’s finger nudged against Wooyoung’s breast, indirectly pointing at his heart. ‘It bothers you how easily he let go of you, while you’re still holding onto him. That’s completely normal, but it hurts and I understand that.’

‘Have...you ever felt like that?’ Wooyoung asked quietly.

‘Yes, when my mother died.’ San nodded. ‘I was angry at her for just leaving me behind like that. Alone.’

‘And what did you do about it?’

‘I visited her and said goodbye.’ San said with a little smile on his lips. ‘It doesn’t sound like much, but it actually helps.’

That was closure, Wooyoung understood that. He was not sure however if one could compare these two situations. They seemed too different. And it was weird to him how it was easier for San to meet his dead mother while Wooyoung could not appear in front of Yeosang who was pretty much alive. ‘But I can’t just go up to Yeosang like that.’ 

San thought for a moment until he raised his eyebrows almost mysteriously. ‘Well, unless you _could_.’

Now, Wooyoung was even more confused. San saw that and went on to explain further. ‘I mean, it’s hard to actually talk to him. But...you could at least see him. Without him noticing, you know.‘

Ah. _Ahh!_ Wooyoung suddenly burst into laughter. ‘Are you suggesting we should stalk Yeosang?’

‘It sounds weird, now that you say it.’ San mumbled, then he shrugged. ‘But maybe it helps, you know? Like that you can see for yourself, forge your own opinion and who knows, eventually maybe forget about this situation.’

Yeah, maybe?

‘So...I’m actually getting a stalking lesson from a professional, hm. How exciting.’ Wooyoung grinned, then he pressed his lips onto San’s for a split second, smiling at him. ‘Thank you.’

San just smiled back. ‘Everything for you, Wooyoung.’

The fact that it was Sunday could mean a lot of things. It could mean that Yeosang was at home, chilling, or he was out somewhere and they would not know where to look. While this whole thing probably felt pretty normal to San, Wooyoung felt weird. At least a bit. Obviously he had never done something like this before. Sure, he had _stalked_ some people over Instagram or other social media from time to time, if you could even call that _stalking_, but that was harmless compared to what San had done in Wooyoung’s case. But as wrong as what they were doing might have been, Wooyoung did not think about asking San to just go back home and leave it. His curiosity was much bigger than his conscience that told him with a teeny tiny voice that this was not right. The desire to know how Yeosang was doing, if he was doing okay or if he was drowning in guilt did not let go of Wooyoung. And he knew that if they just went home again, this aching desire could never be fulfilled.

‘We should probably take the bus if we’re stopping by his home first.’ San said. ‘That’s the first place where I’d look for him.’

Wooyoung nodded and adjusted his face mask. Then he stopped. ‘You even know where _he_ lives?’

‘You used to hang out with him from time to time, so of course. I know where Mingi lives, too.’

Wooyoung growled. ‘Mingi’s not of any importance, though.’ 

Wooyoung quickly caught up with San and kept walking closely next to him. It had become even colder outside. Wooyoung was wondering how long it would take for the first snowflakes to fall down from the sky. He imagined how things would be if he had met San in the summer. Would they lie on the floor in the apartment, half naked, laughing at each other while drinking cold coke with five ice cubes each? Would they have to shower at least three times a day because they were sweating so much and would they jokingly fight over the tiny air conditioner? Would they be outside now, dressed in short sleeved clothes and shorts, going for an ice cream? They probably would. But maybe then they would not have spent several nights with their bodies pressed against each other’s, trying to absorb the warmth they were radiating. Maybe, if it had not been cold outside that day, Wooyoung would not have ended up kissing San who had just tried to warm his ice cold hands. Yeah, maybe. He believed that it all had a reason why he had met San in the winter. And only thinking about spending Christmas with San warmed his heart. They would celebrate the new year together. The first day of spring. He smiled. Everything, they would celebrate everything together.

San paid for both of their bus tickets and even though it was still early in the day, the bus was packed. They were standing in the midsts of people, brushing shoulders with strangers. While San was holding onto a handle, Wooyoung was standing close to him, grasping his jacket and keeping his head down. For how long did he have to do that? Pretend that he was invisible? For weeks, months? Even years? Forever? Well, unless... Wooyoung dared to look up for a second, his eyes met those of San. San smiled. Wooyoung knew that even though San was also wearing a mask because whenever he smiled, his eyes became smaller and smaller and smiled with him. What if they just...fled? Together? The country? They could go to Japan. Or, no! Maybe even Europe! Oh, Wooyoung wanted to go to Europe. Maybe live in Paris? All the beautiful little cafés, the wonderful places. A date on the Eiffel Tower. What about Spain, though? They could buy a little house near the beach, adopt a dog or two and swim in the sea for hours and hours until their fingers and toes got all wrinkly. There would be no hiding, no fear. No other people. Just them and, you know, some dogs. Wooyoung maybe also wanted three. And a cat, probably. 

Wooyoung smiled at these thoughts, he leaned his head against San’s shoulder. Oh, if that just was possible. If it just was that easy.

The bus suddenly came to a halt which caused Wooyoung to almost fall over if San had not grabbed him quickly enough. Wooyoung thanked him quietly before they squeezed through the little crowd of people to get out of the bus before it could close its doors again. They were standing right in the middle of Yeosang’s neighborhood, a place Wooyoung just knew so well. It felt weird to be here again. People here knew Wooyoung, at least some did, and knowing this let his heart pound heavily against his rib cage. His hand searched for San’s and then he started walking. He wanted this.

They did not exchange any words until they arrived at Yeosang’s place. He lived in an old, lovely house which Wooyoung had always adored. He had always felt much more at home in that house than in his own where it was cold and lonely. There were always people around in Yeosang’s house. His mother was home most of the time, taking care of Yeosang’s brother who was six he believed. Often their grandfather would stick around, sitting on the sofa and watching old war movies. And he would watch them with the volume turned up so high that one could _really_ think war had just broken out. Wooyoung remembered rolling on the floor from laughter whenever Yeosang begged his grandpa to turn the volume down a bit but he had to repeat himself thousands of times because his grandpa just could not understand him. Yeah, it was nostalgic to be here again, and somehow it was sad. It was sad that their friendship had come to an end like that. 

‘Hey, we shouldn’t come that close. I heard someone inside.’ San then whispered, slightly tugging at Wooyoung’s jacket. 

He was right, Wooyoung had walked up all the way to the fence, completely ignoring the fact that he could have been seen through the windows. They crossed the street and leaned against another fence, spying on the house, while partially hiding behind a parked car.

‘Now we just wait?’ Wooyoung whispered, San nodded. ‘That could take hours.’

‘Well, we don’t really have much options. From here, we can see his room, right? Isn’t it the window right there?’

Wooyoung’s eyes followed the direction in which San’s finger was pointing. He nodded.

‘Maybe we can see him. Or maybe he’ll come out. You can’t really go up there and ring their bell, right? You do understand that?’

Wooyoung nodded. ‘Yeah, of course. But isn’t that a bit...tiresome? Doing this over and over again? What if he doesn’t leave the house in the end, what if he’s maybe not even home?’

‘Well, then we’d have to come back again another day. I used to wait hours for you, sometimes I would only see the top of your head for a split second until you disappeared again. But, I don’t know. For me it was always worth the wait. Every single second was worth it.’

Wooyoung smiled. ‘Then I guess we can wait.’

They were both leaning against the fence, waiting and waiting. Their hands warming each other’s and Wooyoung could have almost mistaken that day as a beautiful day in spring because the sun was shining lovely. If there just had not been this immense cold. It was surprising how much patience a stalker had to have to actually go through with this. Wooyoung could have sworn they were waiting for maybe twenty minutes without anything happening and he was already bored. Yet he did not want to give up. Because with every new minute there was a new chance that Yeosang could appear in the little frame of the window that was giving Wooyoung a little insight of his ex-best friend’s room. He could not see much, but what he saw was Yeosang’s desk with a computer. This crappy computer that barely managed to run Overwatch but he remembered how happy they were when Yeosang got it so they could finally play video games together. He wondered if Yeosang had become a bit better at aiming, he really was not good at it. It could get really frustrating when they—

Wooyoung started at the sound of a screeching door opening and a loud voice ringing out.

‘..._sake_, I can’t take you with me! Go and play with your action figures or something.’

Yeosang.

He would recognize that voice anywhere. While Wooyoung’s eyes were pinned at the entrance, trying to make out something, San had pulled him behind the car, and pressed down on his shoulders to make him bend over a little. Still, his eyes did not move away until a person appeared in the frame, working an annoyed expression on his face.

‘But I don’t want to play with action figures. I want to play with your friends.’

Wooyoung’s heart pounded. Wow, it had been weeks. Weeks since he had last seen Yeosang. And he did not look different at all. His hair was the same, just like his soft face was. Wooyoung tightened his grip around San’s hand. _Breathe_.

‘You can’t come with me.’ Yeosang groaned but turned around, then he crouched in front of his little brother. ‘Listen, if I buy you something nice, will you shut up?’

His little brother grinned satisfied and ran inside before he could hear him yell ‘have fun with your friends’. Even though Wooyoung did not see it, he knew that Yeosang had rolled his eyes. He then got up on his feet again and walked towards the entrance. Wooyoung and San ducked, waiting for him to pass them without noticing. Wooyoung’s head turned to San, looking at him with a face that asked what they should do next. He signaled Wooyoung to stay low for a bit until Yeosang disappeared around the corner. While Wooyoung thought this kind of defeated the purpose of the whole stalker thing, he believed San knew what he was doing so he followed his instructions. They came out from behind the car and slowly walked into the direction into which Yeosang had disappeared.

‘There aren’t many people here, so he would notice us immediately. That’s why we’re keeping our distance. He promised his brother to buy something, so I believe he’s going into town to meet up with friends. The only way into the city is the way he went. So we can slowly follow him.’

‘I’m impressed.’ Wooyoung mumbled. He could not easily brush off the weird feeling this whole situation gave him. In some way it was exciting, though. It was interesting to seehow people pursued their lives not knowing that they were being watched. And it was interesting in general to see that, you know, other people had lives. Other people did not just freeze when you parted ways with them, they had their own thoughts, their own things to do, their own burdens and obligations. And it was weird to see that. But one thing bothered Wooyoung, and he hoped he was wrong about it. It was this familiar direction into which Yeosang was walking.

They were following him slowly, made sure they were not loud in anyway, that they did not do anything that could attract attention to them. And surprisingly enough, it worked quite well. But the more they followed him, the more it ensured Wooyoung where Yeosang was going before heading into town. And after waiting for him to turn round another corner, San stopped Wooyoung from walking.

‘You...do you want to continue?’ San’s voice was calm and Wooyoung loved that he asked. He loved how understanding he was, how thoughtful and caring. God, where had San been all his life? ‘You know where he’s going, right?’

Wooyoung nodded determined. ‘Yes. I’m not...satisfied yet.’

San nodded at him and smiled. ‘Be sure to tell me when you want to go back.’

Wooyoung grabbed San’s hand again and smiled before he continued walking. In the end, it turned out that Wooyoung’s apprehension was justified as Yeosang stopped in front of an apartment complex that Wooyoung sadly also knew fairly well. He had never been in there, no, but he knew who lived inside one of the small apartments. Yeosang waited in front of it and took his phone, typed something on it and then put it away. Wooyoung sighed and turned away, hiding behind a corner again. Hm, so Yeosang and Mingi had become closer, what? _How ironic._ Maybe that had been Mingi’s goal from the beginning. Getting in between them. _Well, congratulations, dumbass, you freaking did it._

‘Wooyoung. Do you want to take a picture?’

Wooyoung raised his eyebrow. ‘A picture? Of Yeosang? Do you have your phone with you?’

San nodded and shoved it into Wooyoung’s hands. They had not taken a camera with them because there simply was no need to, in the end they were not really stalking Yeosang, but now that he thought about it, maybe a picture was not such a bad idea after all. Maybe—Wooyoung did not exactly know how, but you know, still—it could help to finally put this whole Yeosang story behind him. So he proceeded to open the phone camera and peeped out from behind the corner, only a tiny bit. San remained hidden. He put the focus right on Yeosang’s face and...yeah. He looked beautiful. People sometimes said that the prettiest pictures are those shot when the people did not know pictures were being taken of them. Wooyoung had never understood that because—obviously—he looked good in every picture, but maybe there was some truth to it. Yeosang looked so innocent, so beautiful. Pure, almost. Wooyoung decided to take several pictures to make sure that he had a range of nice photos and—

Oh _God_ why was he looking at the camera?!

Wooyoung quickly hid behind the corner, pressing the phone against his chest.

‘What happened?’ San whispered but Wooyoung quickly put his finger to his lips, telling him to shush. Had he seen him? Oh God, please not. He wanted to look so badly but he knew that if he looked now it was the end of their little stalking-date. Should they run? Maybe—Wait—Oh _God_, was he hearing steps?! He looked at San in pure fear and it even shocked him more to see that San was not doing anything. He just remained silent and calm even! He softly pulled Wooyoung away from the corner and covered him as best as he could while the steps were coming closer and with them Wooyoung’s heart was beating faster and faster, he feared it was going to explode!

‘Yeosang? Where are you going?’

Another voice. The deepness of it let Wooyoung know that it was indeed Mingi speaking from afar. The steps had also stopped abruptly.

‘Oh, nowhere. Let’s go!’

Yeosang’s voice was so close and loud in Wooyoung’s ear, making him understand that Yeosang had indeed seen something and that he had come closer. If Mingi had not been...who knows what would have happened. Well, Wooyoung should probably thank Mingi at this point, but no, never. Never would he thank him. He just heard how Yeosang turned around again and the steps faded, eventually becoming almost inaudible. Wooyoung glanced at San who was looking down at him, his eyes smiling again. Maybe he was just as relieved as Wooyoung. God, this was nerve wrecking. 

‘Let’s go.’ He said quietly, but Wooyoung grabbed his wrist.

‘Wait.’ He pulled down his face mask, pointing at his lips. ‘Give me a kiss first.’

San grinned and removed his mask as well, shoving Wooyoung against the wall just to press his freed lips onto Wooyoung’s. How sweet it was, Wooyoung could not get enough. He pulled San closer by grabbing his jacket, loving every second of this.

But too soon, too soon San pulled away again but remained close to Wooyoung. ‘We should go if we don’t want to lose them.’

Wooyoung nodded and smiled. He put his mask on again, San did the same, and then they slowly checked if they were good to go and yes, it did not seem as though Yeosang was still suspicious.  Seeing Mingi’s tall, muscular and broad back and shoulders made Wooyoung angry. Maybe Mingi found a liking to Yeosang? Was that why he had tried to come between them? Why he was always grinning like an idiot when they hung out together? _Urgh_. Nonsense. Yeah, maybe they just got along very well. It seemed like that, judging from how much they were laughing. Did not really seem like Yeosang was feeling guilty or well, even a little sad. He knew it.

‘So...are you gonna wear a suit?’ They heard Mingi ask. Suit? Suit for what?

‘Well, I’m not sure. It’s nothing that special after all.’ Yeosang retorted, shrugging his shoulders. 

‘Do you have someone to go with?’ 

Go where???

‘Like a date? No. We actually decided to leave this nonsense and go without asking someone out. That’s too stressful, and I also really wouldn’t know who to ask out. I’m not that good with talking to girls.’

Ah. _Oh_. That thing. 

‘With us, do you mean Wooyoung?’

Suddenly, the atmosphere had changed completely, as though the sun had disappeared behind dark, sad clouds that also took away all the laughter. They saw how Yeosang only nodded, saying nothing. San paid Wooyoung a confused glance, not knowing what they were talking about. But Wooyoung knew.

‘To be honest, I’m not even sure if I should go at all.’ Yeosang said, glancing at Mingi from the side and he did actually look a little depressed.

‘No, please! Please, let’s just go, okay? I really want to go, but it’s no fun if I’m alone. I haven’t asked anyone out either, so why aren’t we going together? You know, just for fun.’

Yeah, sure, Mingi. _Just for fun. Choking noises. _

He did not understand what Yeosang had said to that, but judging from the big smile that formed on Mingi’s lips, this unnecessarily huge smile, Yeosang had agreed on going together. Hah...seemed really easy to replace Wooyoung, did it not?

Wooyoung felt San’s grip around his hand tighten again. He smiled. Well, why should he care? He had San, right?

They followed them into the city without any problems but with witnessing a lot of unnecessary conversations. Wooyoung sighed, what was he doing? Yeosang clearly did not care, so why did they not just go home again? Wooyoung just wanted to turn to San when he saw how Yeosang suddenly stopped in front of a place Wooyoung knew very well.

‘You alright?’ Mingi asked after noticing that Yeosang had stopped walking.

Yeosang sighed audibly. ‘It’s Wooyoung’s favorite bakery. I’m sure he misses their cake.’

Oh?

‘Do you want to go inside?’ Mingi asked, but Yeosang shook his head. Wooyoung saw how Mingi’s expression became sad before he put his hands on Yeosang’s shoulders. ‘Hey, Yeosang. Please stop destroying yourself from inside, it’s not your fault. I’ve already told you that hundreds of times.’

‘Yeah, but that doesn’t really change anything, you know? The longer he’s gone, the more I believe something really happened to him. I—I could never forgive myself.’ He escaped Mingi’s glance by looking to his side. Oh? Oh! Were there tears shimmering in his eyes? ‘I just wish he would come back and everything would go back to normal again.’

‘And what if he’s alright?’ Mingi groaned. ‘What if he’s completely fine and laughing at you right now for worrying about him like that all the time? Why can’t you see how bad he was for you, he did nothing but use you. You’ll see how he’ll come back completely fine because this whole disappearance story is a hoax.’

Shut up Mingi, no one wanted to hear that. Wooyoung was not laughing at Yeosang. 

‘Oh, stop it!’ Yeosang wriggled himself out of Mingi’s tight shoulder grip. ‘I don’t even care if it’s a hoax or the truth. I don’t care about his intents, I just want him to come back.’

Wooyoung tilted his head. So...if he just walked up to him, like that, would he ‘forgive’ Wooyoung for ‘what he had done to him’ and just be friends with him again? Wow. That was hard to believe. 

‘Let’s go and buy something pretty before I change my mind about that whole Snow Ball thing.’

Yeosang continued walking and with a loud sigh, Mingi joined him. San also started to follow them again, but Wooyoung held him. He did not let go of him until Yeosang and Mingi had disappeared out of sight. San looked at Wooyoung confused and urged him to follow them quickly because they were going to lose them otherwise. But Wooyoung still did not move. He looked up and shook his head.

‘It’s fine. We don’t need to follow them anymore. This is...all I wanted to find out.’

‘Are you feeling better?’ San then asked and Wooyoung thought about it for a second.

‘I’m not sure how I’m feeling. But...I think it’s good we did that. I think knowing that he still cares about me is enough for me to move on. Isn’t that...how you feel about your mother, too?’

San smiled. ‘Yeah. That’s exactly how I feel.’

‘You know what I could use now?’ Wooyoung then said, holding onto San’s hand. ‘I could use a hot coffee and a cake at our little secret cafe. You down?’

A little smile. San nodded. Yeah, San was right. He was feeling better. In some way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	21. Rainbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Hope you all had a very nice weekend ♡ 
> 
> Please let’s take some time to look at these incredible covers for this story, made by my beautiful and talented friends, I’m still in tearsㅜㅜ Again, I honestly can’t thank you two enough ♡ I would’ve never managed to create something so beautiful. You made me extremely happy.  
The first one was made by my sweetheart [ibookahyun](https://twitter.com/ibookahyun), and the other two by lovely [youchuuber](https://twitter.com/youchuuber). You two are honestly amazing. Love you guys so muchㅠ♡

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 20, Rainbow**

**제 20 장 , 무지개**

The little bell rang when San opened the door to the café. The smell of coffee reached Wooyoung’s nostrils and the quiet coffee shop music in the background immediately had a relaxing effect on him. His eyes wandered about the room, there was another person slurping his lemonade while checking his phone, not paying attention to them at all. And there was of course the employee behind the counter, Wooyoung recognized him from the last time they had come here, even though his face was almost completely buried in his phone. Just what was he doing on it all the time? Playing games? Watching porn? Waiting for his crush to finally reply after three days? But when he heard the bell, his eyes left the display for a split second, looking up to them and greeting them with a friendly but tired voice. He probably had not slept much, the dark circles around his eyes exposed him. Wooyoung quickly directed his eyes elsewhere, searching for a place to sit. He noticed how the table where they had sat the last time was empty, so he suggested to sit down there, only reinforcing the beautiful atmosphere of their new tradition. Just like last time, they both decided on something to drink and chose a cake they would eat together. Rainbow cake. Utterly cliché but you know, it looked pretty.

He let San grab their order, only because it was a little risky for Wooyoung to go up to the employee himself, practically exposing himself with that. But Wooyoung could not help and observe San while he was ordering their beverages. How his eyes hovered over the menu while fiddling with his wallet. Wooyoung smiled. It was a little weird. San seemed so normal, he probably seemed like every other guy to this employee in front of him. While he was just another customer to him, he was the most important aspect of Wooyoung’s life. It was interesting to see how much something could mean to a person, while it was of completely no interest to another. Looking at the employee, Wooyoung wondered if there was someone who thought about this person just like Wooyoung thought about San. And what if not? What happened if there was nobody in the world who even cared about you just a teeny tiny bit? 

Wooyoung shook his head in an attempt to brush these thoughts off. Why was he getting all deep now? He saw San returning to the table while barely managing to hold both cups and the cake without spilling something or dropping the plate. It was just like last time, and it made Wooyoung laugh. He removed his face mask, quickly grabbing one of the cups.

‘You should’ve said something!’ He laughed, but San just brushed it off as though he wanted to tell him he was strong enough to carry two cups and a plate. Wooyoung then observed the rainbow cake, and he just internally begged for it to taste just as good as it looked. Otherwise it would be a major disappointment. 

‘So...what was this all about?’ San asked after sitting down opposite to him again.

‘What do you mean?’ Wooyoung asked, then he took a big sip. Even though the coffee was utterly bitter, today it somehow tasted sweet.

‘What they were talking about earlier. A Snow Ball?’ 

Ah, that thing. Wooyoung rolled his eyes. It was something that the school organized every year for the upper grades and just like every other dumb school ball, the motto was ‘the boys ask out the girls’. Why could it not be the other way around from time to time? But then again, the motto did not hinder some girls from asking out Wooyoung first, but all he ever did was smile and laugh it off, telling them he was the one that should ask someone out while he never even intended to go to the ball in the first place.

‘It’s...a dumb school event. I didn’t wanna go, but eventually Yeosang and I decided we wouldn’t ask anyone out but just go together to have fun. If I remember correctly it’s on the first Friday in December, which would be...’

‘Coming Friday.’

Wooyoung looked at him surprised. ‘Already? Well, no wonder he was looking for an outfit to wear. I already had one. There was this really pretty outfit I bought only for this occasion, I was actually really looking forward to wearing it. It’s kind of sad I can’t do that now.’

‘I’m sorry about that. But what’s this Snow Ball like? Is there going to be dancing and all?’

Wooyoung nodded. ‘There’s dancing, music. Even a dance competition. Nice food, fun games. Just everything you could think of. People dress up, hearts are going to get broken, relationships are formed. The typical teenage romance movie.’

‘I’m sorry you can’t go now.’ San said, his expression had become sad and Wooyoung knew that San believed it was his fault.

‘It’s fine. It’s not like I really wanted to go anyway.’ Wooyoung quickly said, offering San a smile to make him stop feeling guilty. It was not his fault, really. But Wooyoung could not deny that he had been curious about the event. A few weeks ago he even looked forward to it, volunteered to help decorating together with Yeosang. He had only ever seen those kind of things in American teenage movies and while in some of them the protagonists had a horrible time, others experienced the beginning of their own little love story. Wooyoung was curious which kind of movie he would have been in if he had attended the event. If he would have ended up kissing someone or if he would have left the event early with tears in his eyes and a broken heart. But now this all seemed so irrelevant, not important anymore. And Wooyoung probably was not going to find out about the ending of his teenage romance movie. Ever. 

‘The cake’s actually really good.’ Wooyoung then said after their conversation had died and the silence bugged him a little bit. It was not the best cake he had ever tried, but at least it did not disappoint.

‘You’re right.’ San agreed, then he pointed at the counter where all the cakes were displayed. ‘Do you want another piece?’

Wooyoung’s eyes followed San’s finger, observing all the different cakes they could choose from. The rainbow cake was almost gone, and while Wooyoung still felt a little hungry (keeping in mind he had a whole James Bond mission behind him), he kind of desired something else. He looked up from the counter, just to notice how the employee was not actually on his phone for once, even though there were no customers he had to worry about. Instead, he was just standing there, staring at them with his big puppy eyes and when their eyes met for a second, he quickly looked away, pretending to clean. Weird?

‘So?’ San’s voice distracted Wooyoung. He turned to him again just to see him pointing at the cake now. ‘Another piece?’

‘Uh...no, actually.’ Wooyoung said. ‘I’d rather have something else. Let’s grab some rice cakes, alright? I’m kinda craving spicy food.’

San grinned. ‘You can eat spicy food?’

‘Sure I can.’ Wooyoung proudly winked and got up from his chair. ‘I’ll just use the restroom for a second. I haven’t peed since we left the apartment and I honestly can’t hold it any longer.’

San just laughed and let him go. He was proud that he let Wooyoung do that without getting a panic attack because Wooyoung might escape through the bathroom window. San really did not have anything to worry about. Wooyoung looked around for a sign and he eventually found his way to the toilet. The café was not big, so it was pretty hard to miss it. He passed the counter and walked through the door down a little aisle. There were several doors, but only three of them accessible to customers. Wooyoung went into the men’s room, doing his business. He then let the cold water run down his hands after he figured that no hot water was coming out of the faucet. How disappointing. As if it was not already freezing cold outside. But he giggled, already planning to use that as an excuse to hold San’s hands as though he needed a good reason, when he actually did not. He turned off the water and proceeded to dry his hands. His eyes observes his reflection in the mirror. It still felt weird to see himself with a dark hair color. But he looked fine, he thought. Sure, his skin did not seem as smooth anymore, he was not able to use his skin care products after all, but it was not as bad as he had expected it to be. Maybe—and just maybe—skin care was not that important. He got closer to the mirror, looking from one eye into the other and he found that the more he looked at himself, the less he could recognize his own face. He blinked, this was weird. Maybe he had become a little crazy. Just a little.

Wooyoung turned around to the door, opening it with dash and leaving the restroom. He was so looking forward to getting some spicy food and—

_ Ouch! _

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed in pain as he felt his head bump against someone else’s. Almost as quickly as they had collided with each other, they both bounced back again, then the sound of something hitting the ground followed. Wooyoung leaned against the wall, holding his head with both of his hands.

‘Shit.’ He hissed, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to ease the pain.

‘Sh-Shit, sorry!’ Wooyoung finally managed to look up after hearing the shaky voice of the person that had just bumped into him. _Oh?_ ‘Are you okay—fuck, my phone. Shit, fuck!’

He watched as the person quickly picked up his phone and examined it, Wooyoung figured that that was the noise he had heard just seconds before. But even Wooyoung could see that the display was completely broken. It was a fatality. 

‘Oh no—oh no, no! No, phone, come on. Please!’

_Let go, son. It’s dead._

He turned to Wooyoung, his expression showing nothing but utter panic. And Wooyoung was correct, it was no other than the employee that should probably not be here but rather outside where his customers are waiting to get their drinks served. As far as Wooyoung knew, there was no other employee working besides the young man right in front of him. But before Wooyoung could do or say anything, the employee had already grabbed both of his arms and _God _freaking_ hell_, what kind of sports was this boy doing?! His grip was strong as hell! Wooyoung gasped, trying to avoid his eyes as best as he could while the employee’s face was literally three inches away and holy _fuck_ that was way too close! He tried to break free from him, but why, oh why was he so strong?!

‘Listen, sorry about your phone, yeah, but could you please let me go, I have to go, I really do—’

San was waiting...!

‘It _IS_ you!’

‘Huh?’ Wooyoung stopped fighting back for a second. Damnit, why did he not even look like he was using any strength while restraining Wooyoung? His heart began racing again. God, he had to return to San! ‘What...what are you talking about?’

‘I knew it! I knew it since the first time you came here, but I thought maybe my brain was playing tricks on me because, you know, your face is everywhere. But I was right! Completely right! God, are you okay? Are you hurt? Don’t worry, alright? I—I can help you. I will help you. Just...just stay here for a second. I will get another phone and call the police right away. I’ll be quick, okay, you’re safe now. He won’t hurt you, I, _phew_, phone. The phone.’

No. No, no no. Not again. 

The employee finally let go of Wooyoung and turned to walk away, but Wooyoung was quick enough to grab his wrist. The employee looked at him in shock, urging him to let go and he promised that he would be back in a second, told him it was going to be alright but they had to act quickly and this and that and Wooyoung just wanted him to shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

‘Please, stop.’

He was tired. Tired of this.

He fell silent, confusion was written all over his face. ‘Stop...stop what exactly?’

‘This. All this. Everything is alright. There’s no need to call anyone, no need to protect me from anyone. Why can’t you all just let me live? Let _us_ live?’

‘I—I’m sorry, I don’t think I can follow you?’ His voice was shaky. ‘I thought you were kidnapped? And this man outside, isn’t he—’

‘He’s not my kidnapper.’ Wooyoung cut him off. ‘I’m fine, okay? I’m not hurt, not scared. I wasn’t kidnapped. Nothing. Just let me go, okay? Please, I’m begging you. I just want to go back to him.’

‘Listen, uhm, Woo—Wooyoung, right? I know you might think you like him, it’s probably because he cares for you and he tricked you into trusting him. I get that, that...that’s normal, you know, in these kind of situations. But you are safe now. No need to be scared of him anymore. You can go home now. Just please, please let me call help.’

Why...did they not understand? Why did they not just believe him? Hongjoong and this guy right here. Everyone else. They were all the same. In the end, the only one that truly understood Wooyoung’s situation was Yoojin. A little boy who still believed in monsters and superpowers. What did that tell him, hm? What could he learn from that? Was it even worth explaining himself to a stranger when in the end, they did not believe him anyway? When they did not even try to listen to him, to let him speak. There were no efforts done trying to understand him. His family was like that, the people at school and everyone else.

‘Do you know,’ Wooyoung finally got to catch a glimpse of the little name tag that was attached to the employee’s uniform, ‘_Jongho_, how it feels to be loved? And I mean truly loved.’

Jongho, being taken aback by Wooyoung’s sudden question, only managed to stutter incoherent syllables and words.

‘Me neither.’ Wooyoung said. ‘Until I met him. And Jongho, I swear to God, I’d never exchange this feeling for anything else. So if you’re trying to take it away from me, I’m willing to do anything to prevent you from doing that. Do you understand me?’

‘But—’

‘I asked if you understood me.’

A simple nod.

‘Then I’ll let go of you and get outside now. Again: Do not call the police. Don’t call anyone. I am safe, I am happy, and the only person that could rescue me is him, and he has already done that. Okay?’

Again, a silent nod.

Wooyoung slowly let go of his wrist, he caught the employee rubbing the place where Wooyoung had grabbed him, but he did not move. He did not run towards the door, did not try to hold Wooyoung back, nothing. He just stood there, staring into space.

Wooyoung took a deep breath. He nodded and passed by him, but before he walked through the door, he turned around again.

‘Jongho.’ Said person turned around, slowly. ‘I truly hope you’ll find that person that loves you just the way you are.’

He nodded his head in a little bow, then he left the aisle. San already came running at him.

‘Everything alright? You—You uhm, you took quite a while.’ San said. God, was he sweating?

‘I’m sorry, did I worry you a lot?’ Wooyoung pouted, grabbing San’s hand. ‘Turned out I didn’t just had to pee, you know?’

‘Oh—_Oh_. Ah, I see. It’s fine.’ A little smile formed on San’s face. It seemed a little forced, but Wooyoung knew that it was just because San had feared for his life and he had to calm down. And Wooyoung hated seeing him like that. Why, why was there never a normal day for them? Why could they not just live a normal life, go out together like a normal couple—

Oh, did he just say _couple_?

‘So, food?’ San said, his voice seemed a little calmer.

‘Yeah.’ Wooyoung quickly pressed his lips to San’s cheek. ‘Food.’

*

He watched as Wooyoung took out one of the little rice cakes and shoved it into his mouth. A pleased sigh immediately left his lips, making San laugh a little. Was there anything more beautiful than seeing Wooyoung laugh? Just watching him let all of San’s worries disappear as though they had never been there in the first place. It made San forget about the incident with Hongjoong, about the constant fear that Wooyoung might still end up wanting to leave him. About the possibility that this everything was not going to last very long. He did not want to spend one single thought on these kind of things, all he wanted was to enjoy his time with Wooyoung. Being near him. Being able to touch him, to kiss him and hold his hands. It was something San had never dared dreaming of but still got to do. 

He was happy.

It had been so long since he last felt like that. In fact, he could not even remember. Had he ever been this happy before? Maybe when he was a little child, when he was together with his mother. But even then, had he been more happy than he was right now? He doubted it. And he did not even have a problem with that either.

‘Try it!’ Wooyoung said cheerfully, holding one of the rice cakes in front of San’s face, almost already shoving it into his mouth. San laughed and ate it, and it was good. It was the best rice cake he had ever eaten. Probably because he was eating it together with Wooyoung.

San noticed how Wooyoung’s mood had changed after they had stopped following Yeosang and Mingi. He seemed as though he was finally letting go, he seemed happy with what he had seen and San was happy he was able to help him with that. In fact, Wooyoung had changed a lot in the past few weeks. Change did not necessarily mean something bad. Wooyoung had learned how it felt to be loved, and how to actually give something back instead of only ever taking from others. Even if he did not want to admit it, even if he sometimes was embarrassed to show it, San knew that Wooyoung cared about him. Wooyoung felt something when he looked at San, he could see it in his beautiful, curious eyes. San was not quite sure what exactly he felt, but it was nothing bad. And that was enough for him. To know that the person he loved so truly, the person he had imagined next to him whenever he could not fall asleep at night liked him and accepted him was the greatest gift he could ever dream of. To San, it was nothing more and nothing less than pure love.

They had finished their little rice snacks even before they reached the apartment complex. Wooyoung’s lips had a slightly red tint to them, almost as if he had put on lipstick when it was really only the fault of the spicy sauce that the rice cakes were so generously dipped into. San loved it. He looked so cute, almost like a little doll.

‘What are you looking at?’ Wooyoung asked before he proceeded to walk up the stairs.

‘Your lips.’ San giggled. ‘You look so cute. Oh—’

San stopped daydreaming about kissing Wooyoung’s soft, still spicy lips as he slightly bumped into Wooyoung. Had he stopped walking? San wondered why and looked past him, only to see Yoojin sitting on the cold stairs, tears rolling down his puffy cheeks.

‘Yoojin...’ San walked past Wooyoung after he had moved aside a little to let him through. He crouched in front of him, taking his tiny head in both of his hands. Oh, how his little red eyes broke San’s heart. ‘What happened, are you alright?’

‘San Hyung!’ When Yoojin recognized San’s face through his tears, he began to sob even more miserably. Oh no, what happened? Had San done something? Was it his family? Was he hurt? Had someone been mean to him? Oh, don’t worry little Yoojin, San Hyung was going to take care of it, no matter what it was. No one was allowed to make him cry like that. And San was going to make sure it would never happen again.

‘Tell me, hm? Hyung’s going to help you. I promise.’ San said, urgently wiping away his tears before new ones came running down the little boy’s cheeks. Oh, San hated this. San hated seeing him cry. It reminded him so much of whenever he cried and he remembered that never, never had he cried because he was happy.

‘Mommy,’ Yoojin sniffed back his snot, ‘she found a—a new job. But it’s far away. And she said we have to move.’

San blinked. So...he was not hurt? He glanced at Wooyoung who had walked up the stairs and crouched down behind Yoojin, gently stroking his back. Oh...did he not look perfect? Wooyoung was so sweet...

_ Ah, focus, San! Focus, focus. _

‘But...aren’t those good news?’ San asked carefully. Yoojin only began crying even louder, as if San had pressed a button that triggered more and more and more tears.

‘No!’ He cried. ‘That means I won’t see Hyung ever again. And my new Hyung!’

_ Eh?  _

San raised one of his eyebrows and looked at Wooyoung. Wooyoung looked back at him. He looked like a child that had just been caught stealing cookies from the secret cookie jar. What was going on? San knew that Yoojin and Wooyoung had met once after he had brought the cake that his mother made and Yoojin actually remembered Wooyoung? Well, apparently kids had a good memory.

‘Don’t be sad, yeah? It’s going to be okay. If you give me your address, I’ll visit you as much as I can. Be sure to tell your mum, okay? And then I’ll play with you for hours.’

‘But mum said it’s far from here.’

‘I’ll still come over.’

‘Promise?’

San laughed. ‘Promise. Now come on. Get up. You’ll catch a cold.’

Yoojin snuffled. The tears stopped. Only his cute, swollen face remained. He dried off his own face before San could do so and then he got up on his feet. ‘Can we do a sleep over at your place, Hyung? I promise I’ll go to sleep at eight and I’ll be quiet.’

San looked at Wooyoung, he was almost asking for consent because well, Wooyoung was there too. And why was he not asking questions about Wooyoung? Did he not find it weird? But while San had expected for Wooyoung to shake his head, completely abandoning the idea of having a little boy over for the night, Wooyoung actually nodded at him. And he smiled! But...but that was risky! It was way too risky. What if Yoojin told his mother about Wooyoung the next day? _Oh, no. No. San, absolutely no way_. Yoojin could not stay over night. It had already become too risky now that he had seen Wooyoung twice!

‘Yoojin...I don’t think—’

‘Sure!’ Wooyoung quickly interrupted San. Huh?? What was he doing? Did he not realize how dangerous that was? Sure, he was only a small child, but if they were not careful enough, even he could mean the end of both of them. ‘San hyung and I would be happy. Just go and tell your mum first, okay? And get your Pyjamas.’

While Yoojin cheerfully nodded and ran into his own apartment, San did not understand the world anymore.

‘Wooyoung, this—’

‘It’s fine.’ Wooyoung smiled at San and softly grabbed his head by his chin. ‘Can you trust me when I say it’s alright? We don’t have to be afraid of Yoojin.’

But how come...? How come he was so calm and so sure about that? San did not understand. Sure, sure he was going to trust Wooyoung. As though he had another choice, as though he could resist him when Wooyoung looked at him with this beautifully seductive look on his face, with this warm smile on his peachy lips that spoke so sweetly to him. Oh, Wooyoung, why was he so beautiful? And San did not even bother about the fact that Wooyoung knew that whatever he asked for San would oblige. He would do anything. 

San just nodded. He nodded at him and Wooyoung’s smile grew bigger. He leaned over and placed a kiss on San’s lips. A kiss that was so short, too short for San’s liking but it was so full of emotion, full of desire that when Wooyoung pulled away, San could not help but quickly grab his neck, pulling him closer and almost forcibly pressing Wooyoung’s lips on his own again. And Wooyoung did not refuse. He leaned into the kiss and there it was, the slightly spicy taste of his lips that made San want more and more. It made San’s tongue impatiently search for Wooyoung’s, made him want to discover every single inch of Wooyoung’s body. From his face down to his neck, to his chest and to his sweet belly. He wanted to feel the warmth of his thighs on his lips and he wondered, yes, he wondered if Wooyoung would want that.

‘Mum said it’s okay!’

They quickly pulled away, Wooyoung jumped up to his feet and turned around, nervously laughing at Yoojin and telling him he was happy to have him over.

_Oh...darling. Are your knees a little week?_ San thought as he saw Wooyoung’s legs twitch a little, he brushed his hair back just like he always did and then looked at San, waiting for him to open the door. San forced himself not to giggle too much at that. He softly ran the back of his hand across Wooyoung’s side before he proceeded to open up the door and let both of them inside.

See there, just like a little family, no?

San smiled as he watched both of them get into the living room. Yoojin had not just brought his Pyjamas and his favorite pillow, no, he had also brought his favorite action figure that was almost as tall as Yoojin himself. And the explosion sounds and cool slogans it gave off did not even bother San today. He did not bother that Yoojin was there. He did not bother if he could find out. He did not bother if he maybe already knew.

San’s eyes went from the action figure to Wooyoung who had sat down besides Yoojin, complimenting his toy even though San could clearly see that Wooyoung could not care less. It just showed him again how Wooyoung had changed. How it did not bother him that he was paying more attention to Yoojin than Yoojin was paying attention to him. And San knew why it did not bother him. It was because Wooyoung knew  that San’s eyes only ever stuck to Wooyoung. To his beautiful eyes and lips. To his perfect body.

And the way Wooyoung looked back at him, suddenly so shy but so wanting transformed San’s world into a perfect place. A place that he used to want to disappear from but now would give anything to never leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	22. First Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guysshdifhs!! We reached a 100,000 words!!! Can y’all believe it? I can’t. My record was like three sentences and a comma haha. I wouldn’t have come so far if I didn’t have y’all’s support ♡ Big thank you to you all and enjoy this chapter full of WooSan as long as :) you :) can :)
> 
> ALSO! Quick shoutout to @Cinnamobus here on Ao3 for actually coming up with the idea for this chapter and suggesting me to write it! Thank you so much, I think it turned out really sweet and fit in very well. Thanks a lot ♥

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 21, First Snow**

**제 21 장 , 첫눈**

‘Are you...serious?’

Heavy nodding.

Wooyoung’s eyes were fixed at the floor, probably hundreds of photos scattered across it. And it was not just a small pile of photos, no. It was a _mess_. A beautiful mess, obviously, as Wooyoung’s face was on every single one of the photos. But still, it was an awful chaos and it was just a little sad to see the photos on the floor so carelessly, especially when keeping in mind that San had also only cleaned this room not too long ago. 

‘You just dropped them?’

Again, heavy nodding.

Wooyoung let out a big sigh, he turned his head away from the tragic mishap and faced San who was looking at him with an expression a little too unbothered, almost already a little happy about the whole situation. Sure, it was nothing terrible, but at the same time Wooyoung wondered how the hell he must have dropped his photos to make them cover the whole damn floor. Did he pirouette while throwing them on the floor? Wooyoung crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, raising his eyebrows. ‘And why should I clean it if it’s you who did this?’

‘I have other things to do.’

‘What other things?’ Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed into a slit.

‘Cooking.’ San quickly retorted and began pouting, suddenly taking Wooyoung’s hand just so gently into his own and moving it closer to his face, then pressing a loving kiss onto the back of it. ‘Please?’

Wooyoung groaned, trying to hide the little smile that was subconsciously forming on his lips. It was hard keep up an annoyed expression when San was just so sweet towards him. So, _fine_, since San was busy with work again and also had to cook for them every single time because Wooyoung did not know how to cook and also did not have the nerves to start learning it, he guessed he could do at least as much as cleaning up the room for him.

‘Alright, fine.’ Wooyoung gave in. ‘I’ll clean it up. But I’m expecting a super delicious dinner then.’

A smile popped up on San’s lips, a smile so big it almost worried Wooyoung, was he having a stroke? 

‘Great, thank you. And don’t worry, I’ll make the best dinner ever.’ San said, quickly leaning forward to to give Wooyoung a little kiss on his cheek before proceeding to leave the room.

‘Oh right.’ San came back again, letting only his head peep inside the room. ‘Make sure you sort them chronologically, yes? Thanks, darling.’

And before Wooyoung could protest or complain, San had already closed the door and had disappeared again. Wooyoung kept staring at the door for a solid minute before shaking his head in disbelief and turning around to the mess displayed in front of him. And only one question came to his mind when looking at it: Where the fuck should he begin?

He started by just collecting all the photos that were scattered on the floor and brought them together so that he had all of them right in front of him. And boy, there were lots of them. He sat down on the carpet and just picked up one photo after the other, trying to bring some order into them. Luckily, San was so organized that he had actually written down the dates underneath or on the back of the pictures, which was a great help to Wooyoung. It was impressive to see how many photos of Wooyoung he had, and these were only the ones that San had not stuck into his diaries or albums. But then again, of course he had that many pictures. After all, San had stalked Wooyoung for years. He had taken hundreds of pictures of him and Wooyoung had never noticed it. He could not remember ever seeing San, ever getting suspicious. It was only the last couple of weeks before Wooyoung’s disappearance that he had caught a glimpse of it. Wooyoung just wondered how San never even tried to get Wooyoung’s attention except for the little note that he had written him once. Did stalkers not usually try to make themselves known to their victims? Maybe there were different kinds of stalkers, or maybe San was just unique.

For the first time in quite a while, Wooyoung was actually getting a little calmer and more relaxed again. And he could see that it was the same for San. The constant fear in his eyes had died out, he was smiling a lot more, and the only reason why his heart was pounding so, so hard in his chest was not because someone was trying to take Wooyoung away from him, no, it was because of Wooyoung’s little kisses, and because of the bigger kisses, and the kisses that lasted for hours and hours. Wooyoung loved seeing San so calm, it relaxed him too. But were they too careless? But then again, nothing happened. Police did not show up and time was passing. San had been back to work for almost a week again, and everything just seemed normal. It did not feel like police was after them at all, like anyone was trying to find them, no, nothing. It just felt like San and Wooyoung were living a completely normal life, without fear, without pressure but together and in peace. San had told Wooyoung how Hongjoong behaved a little distanced on Monday. How he had gotten a little more comfortable on Tuesday. How he even started laughing with San again on Wednesday, and how he actually asked how Wooyoung was doing on Thursday. And today, on Friday, well, Wooyoung did not know yet. He had not asked San yet, but he would do so during dinner. He wondered if he could gain a new friend, but he still told himself he did not need any as long as he had San, because he remembered he was through with this thing called friendship.

While Wooyoung was slowly (very slowly) making progress with the photos, he wondered what kind of dinner San was preparing that he had to make so much noise in the other room. It did not sound like cooking, it sounded like San was taking apart the whole apartment. And it also sounded like he was in the living room, right next to his workspace in which Wooyoung was currently in, and not in the kitchen where one would usually be in when preparing food. Wooyoung thought this was weird, got up from the floor and opened the door.

‘San? Are you—’

San came running out of the living room. ‘Huh? What? Are you already done?‘

‘No, not yet.’ Wooyoung mumbled, trying to pass him but San stood in his way like a bouncer, not letting him through. ‘Hey, what’re you doing?’

‘Preparing dinner.’

Wooyoung raised one eyebrow in suspicion. ‘In the living room?’

‘Well, I’m setting the table. It won’t take much longer, I promise. You know what, forget about the photos. Instead,’ San grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist and led him to the bathroom, ‘you should get changed. I actually bought you something. Try it on. But don’t come out until I ask you to, understood?’

‘San, what the hell is going on? I’m already changed, these are my Pyjamas. It’s almost eight pm.’

San sighed, he pulled Wooyoung closer until he could feel San’s lips brush against his ear. His voice suddenly deep and raspy, almost mischievous. ‘I just want to see how beautiful you’d look in those clothes.’

‘Oh. Okay...’ Wooyoung’s obedient, quiet voice let San smile and loosen the grip around Wooyoung’s wrist. Not looking away from San and as though he was under a spell, Wooyoung got into the bathroom and closed the door. And just as San had told him, there was a tiny bag with clothes in it. Well, yeah. Maybe he just bought them today and wanted to see how well they would fit Wooyoung. That he would be pretty in them was obvious, but _how_ pretty would he be? 

He looked at the clothes for a minute, black pants and a dark grey long-sleeved shirt. It was a thin, loose material and fit perfectly on Wooyoung’s body, just as he had expected, and letting him look like a beautiful prince. San really knew what looked good on Wooyoung, and the fact that he kept surprising him with new clothes was such a sweet gesture on its own.

Wooyoung fixed his hair in front of the mirror before putting his hand on the door handle, slightly pressing it down before he stopped in motion.

‘San? I’m done... can I come out?’ No answer. ‘San!’

‘One second!’

Wooyoung groaned, letting his hand slide off of the handle. He glanced down at himself, fixed his shirt a little, then brushed through his hair. He would love to put on some eyeliner, buy new earrings. Oh well, he kind of missed that. But he was sure San could buy some makeup for him.

‘Okay!’ San’s voice came closer. ‘You can come out.’

Finally. Wooyoung opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, just to realize how San had turned off the lights in almost the whole apartment. There were just some blue, no, white, and again blue lights coming out of the living room. Since when did he have those kinds of lights? Just what the hell was going on here?

‘San, what—’

‘You look absolutely beautiful, darling.’ He said, coming closer. Then, in this dark, color changing light Wooyoung realized how San had also changed into new clothes. They almost matched each other. But not just that, no, San had also neatly combed his hair back, making him look so mature and so, so good. Was he trying to compete against Wooyoung? Why would he do that?

‘Thank you... You actually, you look quite, uh, handsome, too.’ Gosh, Wooyoung? What the hell were you nervous about?

A quiet giggle left San’s lips, then he took Wooyoung’s hand. ‘Let me show you something, okay?’

Before Wooyoung could even answer, San led Wooyoung through the hallway into the living room where the colorful lights were coming from. _What...?_ Wooyoung’s eyes widened. This was not their living room, this was a whole other room he was standing in! There were blue garlands and stars that actually glowed stuck to the walls, white balloons here and there, paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, they were the lights Wooyoung had noticed before, and the little table was covered in food and snacks, and soda and beer cans. San had created a little cozy corner with hundreds of pillows and blankets and for once, there were no books on the floor. They were neatly put aside where you did not even notice them unless you really looked close enough. 

Wooyoung felt arms wrap around his waist from behind, San’s warm body leaning against his own. There it was again, his calm and low voice that gave Wooyoung goosebumps, making his knees weak. ‘Surprise, darling. Do you like it?’

Did he like it? _Like it?_

‘San I—’ Wooyoung’s voice cracked. _Get yourself together, man!_ ‘I love it! It’s absolutely beautiful and...and you did this just for me?’

‘Of course.’ He giggled. ‘Who else would I do this for?’ San turned Wooyoung around, his skin looked so beautiful in all these different colors. ‘I know it’s probably not comparable to the actual Snow Ball at your school but...I saw that you were a little sad about it. I hope this lets you feel a little better.’

Oh, right! Friday! Today was the Snow Ball.

‘You’re right. This can’t be compared to the school event.’ Wooyoung wrapped both of his arms around San’s neck, smiling at him while looking into his beautifully sparkling eyes. ‘This is hundreds—no, thousand times better.’

Wooyoung moved closer, putting his lips onto San’s. School here, school there, whatever. He did not need it. He did not need to go to school to experience his own version of a romantic high school dance. No, because this right there with San was his very own, very intimate experience. Nothing could beat this, nothing could be remotely better than this moment. 

Their kiss did not last too long, but they remained close to each other. Wooyoung did not protest when San took both of his hands, when he took them in his and when he lifted Wooyoung’s head by his chin only one or two inches while running his tongue across his lips and Wooyoung wondered if San liked his taste just as much as he liked San’s. He bet he did, he had to.

‘So, Jung Wooyoung.’ San bit his lips to cover up the bright smile that came creeping up on his lips. He failed miserably. ‘Do you want to go to the dance with me?’

Wooyoung let the corners of his mouth curl up, his eyes not leaving San’s. A determined nod. ‘Yes.’

Were they married now? Kinda felt like it. If marriage felt like this every day, then Wooyoung wanted it. 

He watched as San happily walked over to the small table where he had put his phone onto and put on some music. This romantic teenager music that Wooyoung would have chosen himself if he had organized all this. The atmosphere, despite San’s efforts to make it look like a snow ball, was warm and loving. It almost felt surreal, it almost made Wooyoung question reality. After a long time he felt like this was a dream again, unreal, but it was no bad feeling this time. It was so sweet, and he wanted it to last forever. He wanted to look at San like this until both of them turned into dust and ashes, until no hiding was necessary anymore. This was truly what Wooyoung wanted, what he needed. San. It was so simple.

San told him to come eat something. Wooyoung approached him and sat down right next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder while eating away at the spicy fried chicken. 

‘So, you purposefully dropped all of the pictures?’ Wooyoung looked up a little, eying San.

‘Well, yeah.’ He nodded. ‘I had to do it, otherwise it wouldn’t have been a surprise, right?’

‘Yeah.’ Wooyoung agreed. ‘It’s fine. It’s not like I managed to finish putting them into order anyway.’

He mischievously winked at San, but he just laughed.

‘San?’ Wooyoung suddenly sat up straight, thinking about something. ‘What...are we? Are we a couple? Is this what people call a relationship?’

He saw San think about it for a few seconds, but then he shrugged. ‘I’m not really sure. Do you want it to be a relationship?’

Did he want that? He shook his head.

‘No. No, I don’t want what everyone else has. What we have is different from any other relationship. It’s special, don’t you think?’

‘You’re right.’ San retorted, smiling. He turned to Wooyoung. ‘So, what do you want to call it then?’

‘Us.’ Wooyoung looked at him. ‘It’s just us. Not me and you, not you and me, it’s just us. We.’

‘That’s perfect. Just like you.’

Wooyoung laughed, but he shook his head. ‘No, just like us.’

Wooyoung pushed aside the little table and got onto San’s lap, running his hands through his beautiful blonde hair. He looked so good with that hair. Almost too good. No, he _already_ looked too good. It was not easy for Wooyoung to actually say or think that. After all, it had always been him and him alone who was perfect. But maybe, yeah, maybe he could live with another person right next to him, on the same level as him. As long as it was San and only San, Wooyoung was okay with it. It was fine, he accepted it. It did not bother him. It really did not.

‘San I’ve been thinking.’ Wooyoung then said, enjoying how San ran his fingers along Wooyoung’s sides, just so soft and gently as ever. ‘What if we just...left? The country, I mean. What if we went to Europe, hm? What if we bought a little flat, went somewhere near the sea, God, San, the sea! Imagine.’

‘I’d love to, Wooyoung. Whatever you desire.’ He whispered, putting his hand to Wooyoung’s cheek. ‘I’m just afraid I can’t afford this.’

Wooyoung nodded, letting his head sink a little. ‘I know, I know that. I was just imagining.’

Wooyoung wished just for a little of his parents’ money. The only thing they loved so much. 

‘But...’ San lifted his head again, forcing Wooyoung to look him in the eyes. ‘If I work more and we use my savings...maybe in a few months? What do you think?’

Wooyoung smiled. He knew that was not possible, that it was not that easy. But still he nodded. They could try, you know. At least try.

‘How was Hongjoong today?’ Wooyoung changed the subject while grabbing a can of beer and opening it. He took a big sip, then he gave it to San who almost emptied the whole can. He giggled a little.

‘It was okay. He is still a little hesitant when the subject comes up, but he tries to hide it. I think he really wants to understand.’ San smiled. Could he leave Hongjoong behind for Wooyoung? ‘He started working on a new story, you know. I think he really likes it, and he’s making a lot of progress already.’

‘Good. I guess he really won’t tell police then. I hope they don’t come looking after him again...’

San nodded. That could become a problem, but Wooyoung chose to trust Hongjoong because he knew San trusted him. He promised them he would not tell police, that he would not tell anyone, so it just had to be fine. And even if this was an issue worth thinking about the whole night, Wooyoung completely brushed thoughts like these off. This was his—this was _their_ evening. Their wonderful party à deux. Nothing could ruin this.

‘I guess there’s just one thing missing now.’ Wooyoung said and got up from San’s lap and onto his legs. ‘I’m asking you, Choi San: Do you want to dance with me?’

San giggled and got up as well. He nodded heavily. ‘It would be a pleasure.’

Wooyoung laughed, moving closer to him, before his eyes found their way to the window, almost as if someone was calling his name. He blinked. This could not be!

‘San!’ He squeaked, repeatedly pounding against his chest. ‘Look outside! Do you see that too?’

San quickly turned around his head, just to see why Wooyoung was so excited and then he understood. He, just like Wooyoung, saw millions and billions of white snowflakes coming down from the black sky. Now it had to be a dream, it just had to. The streetlights showed that there was already a very thin layer of snow on the ground, turning the neighborhood into a cute winter wonderland. Wooyoung’s smile grew bigger, especially after San turned to him again, nodding, and smiling just as much as he was.

‘Do you...wanna go outside?’ San grinned. He already knew the answer. Of course Wooyoung wanted to go out.

They quickly grabbed their jackets and put on their shoes and before they left, he saw San also taking his phone and keys. Wooyoung felt like a little kid that saw snow for the first time in his life. He had waited for this, had anticipated it so much and that it had to snow for the first time today out of all days was perfect, it was a little too perfect almost. They got to the little area with the small parking lot behind the building and _God_, Wooyoung felt free. He felt so free. Never before in his life had he felt so free.

‘This is so beautiful San, right?’ Wooyoung laughed, looking up into the sky and at the millions of snowflakes that were starting to wet his hair while some of them also melted on his hot skin. And it felt so good. Their ice cold kisses on his cheeks and his forehead. Wooyoung then turned around again, looking at San who was a few meters behind him. He quickly walked over to him and dragged him closer to one of the street lights where they could see each other’s faces the best.

‘Let’s dance here, what do you say?’ Wooyoung was way too happy about this.

San took out his phone and pressed play again and a [new song](https://youtu.be/XRNSan20Wpw) began. He came closer, softly took Wooyoung’s hands and placed them on his shoulder. Wooyoung instinctively moved closer, their bodies almost touching, their hearts pounding. San then put his hands onto Wooyoung’s waist, and somehow his touch felt different from usual. It was a little shy, and so innocent. Wooyoung felt his cheeks heat up despite all the cold around them. He had never felt so warm before.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to tell San he did not really know how to dance, that he had never done that before but he could not do it. He could not say it, because his heart would not let him ruin this silent but loud moment. And he just followed San, almost as though he told him what to do through telekinesis. When San made a step towards Wooyoung, he moved back. And when San pulled on his waist when he was taking a step backwards again, Wooyoung came closer. He smiled. They danced. They were doing it! Just like everyone else in his school was dancing, they were doing the same. With the only person he needed, the only person he wanted next to him, in front of him. Around him. 

The sparkle in San’s eyes that night was brighter than ever. And if the damp light did not fool him, it almost seemed as though San was blushing just as much as Wooyoung was. He did not dare look away from him, could not get enough from his beautiful face. His hair had become completely wet, making it fall into his face just as though it was their right place to be.

San grinned and took one of Wooyoung’s hands to spin him around, just to pull him even closer than before. Their bodies were pressed against each other’s, only the thick layers of clothes being between them and Wooyoung wished they were gone. He did not care if they were seen, if they would catch a cold. He just wanted to feel San all over him. He pressed his body against San’s, his arms tightly wrapped around his neck again and then he let his wet cheek rest against San’s chest. His eyes closed, he imagined hearing San’s heart beat through all the layers of clothes while simultaneously listening to the quiet music that was coming out of San’s pocket.

‘San, I want this to last forever.’ Wooyoung whispered barely audible. ‘Please make it last.’

He felt San’s hand move away from his waist. Not seconds later he could feel it on his cheek, making him look up. He felt like he wanted to cry. Not because he was sad, he was happy. He was the happiest person alive in that moment. But only thinking about this everything coming to an end, it made let him tremble. It gave him a shower of anxiety that was so intense, much worse than the anxiety he had felt a few weeks ago when he so urgently wanted to leave. How foolish, how foolish he was for wanting to leave. How could he have possibly thought about leaving? So stupid, he had been so stupid.

It was San all along. It was San who loved him. Who appreciated him just how Wooyoung deserved it. Maybe even more than he deserved it and Wooyoung admitted that. He knew that. And he wanted to do that, too. He wanted to admire San too. He already did that, more than he could have ever expected himself to like another person. But it was not enough. He felt like it was not enough and he wanted to change that before it was too late.

‘Don’t worry, darling.’ San looked at him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. ‘It will last forever.’

And he said it so convincingly that Wooyoung almost believed him. 

Wooyoung stopped moving, and San stopped with him, looking at him almost a little surprised. It probably was not really smart of them to be standing outside while it was snowing, their clothes soaking wet already. But it was the last thing Wooyoung cared about. All he could see was San.

Now it was him to put his hands onto San’s wet cheeks, cupping them ever so softly. He moved closer, closing his eyes mid way before his lips found San’s almost as though they were a magnet, as though he knew exactly where they were. Wooyoung had believed the kiss to be cold, but maybe it only felt so cold because it was so steaming hot. He wondered if their lips would freeze together if they did not move for a while, and he wondered if that would even bother him. San’s hand was sliding across the wet surface of Wooyoung’s neck, then holding onto it tightly to make it impossible for Wooyoung to move away from him even just an inch. Just like they did only seconds ago, their lips were now dancing together, with their tongues entangled just like their bodies and their breaths hot against each other’s faces and it almost burned, it burned from the cold. Wooyoung felt how he was running out of breath, just as though the ending of the song was drawing closer but Wooyoung tried to slow it down so desperately it only made him clasp San’s body even tighter.

But he could not do it forever, he eventually had to let go of him, of his lips, and end the dance with a curtesy. He heard San’s heavy breath, a breath that was visible in the cold and it almost looked like San was smoking a cigarette. And maybe he was. Maybe he was smoking Wooyoung’s affection.

His hands wandered across Wooyoung’s back, across the surface of Wooyoung’s jacket, further down to his pants, to his butt and Wooyoung liked it and he wondered how it would feel without the fabrics between them, without the wetness from the cold snowflakes but with the wetness from their own hot sweat. He wanted to find out.

San pulled Wooyoung closer, he had given him enough time to catch his breath again but Wooyoung had forgotten how that worked, breathing. As if he cared, as if it mattered to him. And when San pulled Wooyoung into a kiss again, he suddenly thought of Yeosang, of Mingi and of everyone else and he pitied them. He pitied them for not being able to experience what he was experiencing right in that moment. This was not their perfect ending. It was their beginning, and it was theirs only. Wooyoung would make sure no one could come between them and make this stop. This just could not end. Not now, never.

Rather would he die. He would die right there, in that moment, together with San if someone was to tell him that this was not going to last long. That they were closer to the ending of their story than to their beginning. Maybe he was the fool for being so naive, to think that way, but it was his life. No, _their_ life. They were one, inseparable. And he finally believed he could understand San and his feelings towards Wooyoung. This constant fear of something coming between them, it could make him go crazy. It almost felt as though Wooyoung was transforming into some kind of stalker himself, constantly wanting to be around San, not wanting to let him go. He had believed that how San was feeling towards Wooyoung was some kind of love, but no. It was something different, it was more than just love. It was obsession. It was an unhealthy amount of obsession that San had with Wooyoung and love was only a small part of it. And finally, for the first time, Wooyoung was sure how he felt about San. It included love, affection. The lust for attention and the fear of letting go. The desire to be around him every second of the day. The anger that starts boiling inside his body when only thinking about him being with someone else, not being with Wooyoung. It was indeed obsession.

An unhealthy amount of obsession. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	23. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys ♡  
This is a little late, but if you wanna get into the right mood while reading this fic, you can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  
And again a huge thank you to my cutiepie [ibookahyun](https://twitter.com/ibookahyun) for helping me out so much with this playlist. It turned out great ♡  
Otherwise, have lots of fun with this chapter!
> 
> Also, credits to the owner of the pic ♡

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 22, Confession**

**제 22 장 , 자백**

His eyes were heavy, the coffee mug empty and the moon almost already up in the sky. The chair he used to think of as pretty comfortable and the only thing he liked about his office suddenly felt stiff and hard against his back as though he was sitting on a block of iron. Another sigh left his lips, he had stopped counting them after a while, then he felt the eyes of his partner on him. He did not bother looking back at him, looking at how he was sitting at his little desk in front of his computer screen, looking at clues that were not even there. Good mood was somewhere, but not where they were, in this barely illuminated office. It seemed like a mystery how Yunho was sitting up straight, eyes focused and full of energy even without having had as much as one sip of coffee. He did not do that, coffee, he had once said. A complete psychopath. Who the fuck managed to stay alive without drinking coffee especially when pursuing the career of a detective? Absolute nonsense to him.

The case was going pretty, how should he put this, not well. Not at all, to be honest. A week had passed since they had last talked to Mingi, since they had gotten a little clue from him about the suspicious man with the camera. They had been looking at CCTV footage for the whole week. But there was no stalker, no Wooyoung, nothing. No sight of success. At one point Seonghwa had even considered suspending the case, he really had, but when he only thought about how Yunho would freak out over this, he decided not to mention it yet. Yunho was still on the case like it was the air he needed to consume to keep him alive, and on one hand Seonghwa did not even blame him. It was his first real case after all, and it was a missing person case on top of that. Of course Yunho would not want to just give up and hey, do not get him wrong, Seonghwa also did not want to give up. He never wanted to give up a case.

But there just were no clues. What else were they supposed to do?

The case did not let Seonghwa rest either. It practically haunted him, to be honest. He could not sleep at night and when he did fall asleep, all he could see was Wooyoung’s lifeless body somewhere floating in a river. Goosebumps. Seonghwa had tried to calm himself down by believing that Wooyoung was fine, that he was somewhere with a friend that no-one knew about, or maybe he was having a great time alone in a five star hotel and they all were worried for no reason. But it seemed so unreal. It could not be that Wooyoung, who was nothing more than a normal teenager, managed to just vanish into thin air without leaving one single trace. It was not possible. Even the craziest and most intelligent psycho-murderers left behind clues. Always. So why not this time? Or was it them, the police and his friends and family who were the ones missing something, the ones who could not see the wood for the trees? Maybe Wooyoung was close, so close that he just might as well seem invisible to them. And maybe he was even laughing at them. But assumptions did not help and Seonghwa had never felt so useless, so helpless on a case before.

Seonghwa could not help but spare a glance at his phone. No new messages. He unlocked it and opened his messenger. The reason why he had no new messages was probably because others were waiting for _him_ to text back. So many unread messages he needed to answer but he always postponed it because seeing how many people he had to reply back to overwhelmed him. There was just one person that had not texted him back yet. After almost a week. Seonghwa would not have a problem with that if the person who did not answer him had not been Jongho. His little (kinda scary) friend who always was on his phone. Always. Day in, day out, playing games or watching videos. Normally, Jongho would reply to Seonghwa in an instant but he had not even read Seonghwa’s last message, no, it also appeared like he had not even received it. This, on the other hand, meant that Jongho’s phone was turned off. It was never turned off, only when he had to give it to his parents as some kind of punishment after he had gotten himself into trouble. But what did he do that he was not allowed to have his phone for so long? Was he alright? 

Seonghwa should probably check on him. The more he thought about this, he more worried he got. And he did not just want to visit him to get his favorite shirt back that Jongho had stolen from him the last time he was at his apartment and that Seonghwa so kindly had requested to get back in his last text, no, he was genuinely worried.

The door flew open, the handle hitting the wall with a loud bang, Seonghwa almost dropped his phone and Yunho’s head turned so quickly, Seonghwa feared he was getting whiplashed. In the doorframe stood one of their coworkers, breathing heavily but with a triumphant grin on his face.

‘We’ve got something.’

Seonghwa and Yunho both started up from their chairs in disbelief. Was Seonghwa maybe dreaming? Had he fallen asleep from all the boredom and now he was in a dream where they actually found something relevant? 

The smile on their coworker’s face grew bigger. ‘You should come and see for yourselves.’

He disappeared from the doorframe, Seonghwa and Yunho quickly exchanged eye contact. Maybe Yunho thought he was dreaming, too. They left the office quickly and followed their coworker into another room where a small team worked on going through CCTV footage. They gathered around the little screen of one of the computers, listening to what their little friend had to say.

‘We were going through the footage from the dates you gave us, but could not find anything valuable. We thought that, maybe if there really was a stalker, he had to be on some of the footage even before the time period you gave us. So we went a little further back in time, some footage we could not restore as it already got deleted, but luckily there are some cameras that keep their footage for a longer time. We already went through lots of the footage before, but now with the description of Wooyoung’s friend, we finally knew what to look out for. An that’s when we found this.’

The man pointed at the computer screen, rewound the video and then played it to the detectives. It was daytime in the video and the street was pretty familiar to Seonghwa, it was not too far from Wooyoung’s home. At first glance, you could not see anything suspicious at all, especially because the quality of the camera was not the best. But upon further inspection, Seonghwa noticed something moving in the corner of the frame, something like a dark shadow coming out of an alleyway, only a little, not completely, but it was enough to recognize a figure dressed in all black with something that looked like a camera in its hands. Seconds passed, the person then started moving into the direction he was facing and before you could even realize it, the person had disappeared again.

‘We found that he matched the friend’s description. Because of the bad quality of the footage, we can’t say for sure that he has white hair, but still it looks pretty light to me.’ Their colleague turned around on his chair, now facing both the detectives.

‘But from his appearance, he doesn’t look like an old man to me.’ Yunho remarked, and Seonghwa found that to be true. The way the man walked, and it did look like a man, did not seem as though he was of older age. Maybe in his thirties at most, but not more than that.

‘Yeah, we thought so, too. Maybe it was dyed hair, maybe it’s very light brown or blonde.’ Their coworker agreed, then he proceeded to type something on his keyboard, a few mouse clicks here and there and another video popped up on the screen. ‘But there’s a little more.’

Seonghwa’s attention went from the middle-aged man in front of him to the computer screen again, where another video started playing. As quickly as it had started, it ended again, and Seonghwa honestly was not sure what he had just watch. Was he...supposed to see the man in the video again? Because sorry, but there was nothing in the video. It was another street, a street that was fairly close to the school Wooyoung had attended. But before Seonghwa or Yunho could say anything, their colleague held up his hand for a second while rewinding the clip, then he pointed at a wall that could be seen in it.

‘Keep an eye on that area,’ he said, ‘and you’ll see.’

The clip played again, Seonghwa bent down a little to get a closer look at it, and suddenly, a little object appeared behind the wall. It took Seonghwa a while to understand what it was, but then he figured it out.

‘It’s the camera, right?’ Seonghwa turned his head to his colleague who nodded at him.

‘This is only a few moments after the first clip. And in previous clips, only minutes before this man appeared, there’s actually someone who looks like the missing boy to me.’ The man pulled out another clip, there were a few people on it but one particular person stood out. The familiar white uniform, the silver hair. No doubt, this was Wooyoung. Probably on his way to school.

‘Holy shit, so there really was a stalker!’ Yunho exclaimed, he could not decide whether he should look at the detective, his coworker or Wooyoung on the computer screen.

‘It does kind of look like it.’ Seonghwa nodded, but he crossed his arms. ‘I mean, sure, it could be anyone just taking pictures of Seoul, but it’s definitely worth looking into.’

‘It is. We haven’t found him in any of the other video footage yet. It almost seems like he knows how to escape the CCTV. If you ask me, that’s already suspicious enough.’

Yeah, what else could they do, you know? There was nothing else. This, for once, seemed like a good lead, like something that was worth looking into, something promising. It was almost as though a rush of energy just flushed through Seonghwa’s bones, the boredom was gone, it was almost a feeling of relief. 

But at the same time, Seonghwa’s body suddenly got filled with fear. If it really was the stalker who took him, Wooyoung could be in extreme danger right now. He had already been gone for weeks now. What if he was somewhere without food? What if he was hurt? What if the stalker, you know, had already killed him? Oh God, if they had just looked into these footages earlier. They could have acted earlier, could have done so much more. Maybe could have brought home Wooyoung by now. But they had no time for self-reflecting. There was no time to feel guilt because the more they waited, the more dangerous the whole situation could become. They had to act now.

‘Alright, I want you to print out a photo of the clip where the man can be seen best. I want to have hundreds of copies of it, we’ll distribute them tomorrow. And let the broadcasts know, too. I want them to show it in the news, too.’

Their coworker nodded, telling him he was already on it. Seonghwa took one of the copies as well and then left the room together with Yunho to go back to his little office. He sat down at his desk, looking at the picture intensively.

‘I don’t think he’s older than thirty.’ Seonghwa said, he saw Yunho nodding.

‘Me neither. I’d even go as far as to say that he’s younger. Early to late twenties. Normal body structure, maybe even a little slim. He’s not as tall as Mingi, that’s clear. So we can rule him out.’

Seonghwa nodded. If you compared the sizes of different objects and the mysterious suspect, and then imagined Mingi in that perspective, it just would not add up.

‘What if it’s Yeosang?’ Yunho said, but honestly, Seonghwa did not believe it.

‘I don’t think so. I think this is someone we actually don’t know. Maybe it’s someone Wooyoung knows. What if it was a little hookup he had? Or maybe he’d broken this guy’s heart and he took it really bad, so he started stalking Wooyoung, wanting revenge.’ Seonghwa looked up and shrugged. ‘It’s possible.’

Yunho nodded.

Seonghwa began thinking. ‘Okay. We’ll start from the beginning. We’ll go through everything one by one, slowly, even if it takes the whole night. We’ll find something eventually. We have to.’

Seonghwa was filled with energy, now that they had a lead. It was not much, of course, but at least it was something. And he saw how Yunho could not hide a smile after he noticed how Seonghwa had suddenly become so engaged.

They could do it. They could find Wooyoung.

It was well after midnight. Seonghwa was exhausted, and even though he did not want to show it, Seonghwa could see that Yunho was just as exhausted himself. It was the first time he saw him like that, with his eyes almost falling shut, his lips pouty and his body sunken into the chair in a position that did not look comfortable to Seonghwa, but was probably super comfortable to Yunho. He actually looked so innocent, even a little cute. Like a teenager again, and not like an annoying kind. Seonghwa almost wished for Yunho to always be like that instead of being hyperactive the whole time. But then again, Seonghwa believed that it was better the way Yunho was. He did not hate him, no. Seonghwa just did not like being around people he did not know very well, and he also did not want to put any effort into getting to know him better, sadly. It was not Yunho’s fault they did not get along very well, it was Seonghwa’s. But he did not care enough to change that. He already believed that their relationship had gotten at least a little better. That was better than nothing, right?

They eventually left the office together and found themselves in midst of a white Seoul. Snow everywhere, cold everywhere. Seonghwa wished for spring to come already, but winter had only just begun. He sighed deeply at the sight of the snow, Yunho seemed to be just as surprised.

‘I didn’t even notice it started snowing.’ He remarked and Seonghwa agreed. When they had entered the office hours ago, there had been no snow, not even one snow flake, and now you could barely see the footpath in front of you. They had missed the first snow. It was not like it was something special to Seonghwa, he was not really into this kind of stuff, but it just felt a little mysterious. They found their first real lead on the day it first snowed. Was that cheesy?

‘Do you need a lift home?’ Seonghwa asked while walking up to his car, searching his pocket for the keys.

‘No, thank you.’ Yunho replied. ‘I think I wanna walk a bit.’

Seonghwa eyed him for a second. He did not have a problem with that at all. He still wanted to pay Jongho a visit, even though it was super late, but Seonghwa knew that it was the best time to check on him. When his parents were asleep, and when Jongho was busy playing video games with his friends. So Seonghwa just nodded, told him to call if he needed something and otherwise they would see each other the next morning in the office, when the photos of their suspect were already on the news and glued to lampposts and walls.

He lifted his hand, waving at Yunho before getting into his car and driving off. He saw Jongho looking at him until he disappeared out of sight, Seonghwa sighed and he leaned back against his seat.

‘He’s still weird.’ He murmured to himself, now focusing on the streets.

Jongho did not live very far. It was a ten minute drive, Seonghwa parked his car near the apartment complex and got out of it. The cold embraced him immediately and and he suppressed the urge to take out a cigarette because he knew Jongho hated the smell and really, it could wait. Instead, he walked around the building, counting the windows on the second floor. It was not difficult to spot Jongho’s room, even if one did not exactly know where he lived. It was the only room that was a little illuminated, but the window was closed and since Jongho did not seem to be looking at his phone, Seonghwa had to find another way to get his attention. He could not possible ring the door. 

So he looked around and luckily, he found exactly what he was looking for. He felt a little cliché for even considering doing what he was about to do, but he just did not see another way. He picked up the little stones he found on the ground, not big enough to shatter the window, but still big enough to make some noise. 

Seonghwa’s first attempt to hit the window failed miserably, he had missed completely, but knowing that he was literally the only person around in this freaking cold, without someone watching him fail throwing stones at a window, calmed him down. After another few attempts, Seonghwa finally managed to hit the window. And he did it again. And again. And after a few times without anything happening, he started to become impatient. What if Jongho did not hear him? Seonghwa looked around and grabbed a stone slightly bigger this time. He hit the window, and after a few seconds, a shadow appeared in the frame. Finally.

Seonghwa waved hysterically at Jongho who then opened the window, leaning out of it a little.

‘Hyung?! What the fuck are you doing? Are you throwing rocks at my window? Are you gonna sing me a song and ask me out to the dance now? You’re too late, hyung, the dance is already over.’

God, Jongho’s annoying voice. How he missed it.

‘Shut up or I’ll throw one at you!’ Seonghwa hissed, but he could not help smiling a little. Jongho seemed fine, though. ‘Are you alright? I haven’t seen you in over a week. That’s unusual. And speaking of unusual things, why the fuck are you not answering my texts? Are you ignoring me on purpose?’

‘No, that’s—’ Jongho stopped talking for a second, his voice suddenly had become a little shaky. ‘I’m alright. Sorry I made you worry. My phone, uhm, it’s broken. Dead. Left our world. Rest in piece.’

Seonghwa rolled his eyes after Jongho had placed his hand to his heart, eyes facing the sky while mourning his phone. What an idiot. But also, what the fuck? His phone was Jongho’s baby. His everything. He protected his little baby so much, it did not have one scratch.

‘What the hell did you do to completely destroy it? What happened? Did you get into a fight? Are you alright?’

‘I’m fine!’ Jongho snapped at him, maybe a little too loud. ‘I just dropped it, okay? It happens to me, too. It’s tragic, I know, but I can’t change it.’

‘Wow, it’s fine, calm down.’ Seonghwa retorted, he did not know why he was getting so worked up. ‘You should’ve visited me, though. I was really worried something might’ve happened to you.’

‘I already said sorry! I am okay, yeah? I’m super fine. I’m actually so great, I feel on top of the world. Never felt better. Do you understand!?’

No, no he did not understand. Despite Jongho claiming how exponentially _good_ he was feeling, his voice sounded completely different. It was shaky and angry, and at the same time he sounded like he was at the verge of tears. 

‘Jongho?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Will you tell me the truth now?’

Even though Seonghwa did not hear it, he saw Jongho sigh. It took him a couple of seconds before he disappeared from the window, then he came back wearing a hoodie and began climbing out of the window. No, no. No need to panic. Seonghwa had seen Jongho do that hundreds of times and somehow he always managed to safely reach the ground and also get up into his room again. Magic. Luckily he did not live too far up.

Jongho walked up to Seonghwa, almost a little reluctantly and with his one hand caressing his upper arm. Huh? When Seonghwa asked him again what happened, if his parents had done something again, Jongho’s head just sunk, avoiding Seonghwa’s eyes entirely.

‘I...’ He noticed how Jongho had difficulties talking, his hand started massaging his neck. ‘I think I made a horrible mistake.’

Seonghwa obviously did not understand what he was talking about. He wished Jongho would stop talking in riddles and just tell him. The more he looked at Jongho’s agonized expression, the more worried he got.

‘Whatever it is, Jongho, we can figure it out. You know I’m always on your side, I can help you.’ Seonghwa carefully reassured him, placing his hand on Jongho’s shoulder.

‘Hyung. You can’t tell anyone!’ Jongho finally looked up again, tears shimmering in his eyes. Just what the hell was going on? He never saw Jongho crying. ‘Promise me. You have to! Promise me you’re not going to tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, okay?’

‘Jongho...’ Seonghwa gulped. ‘I can’t promise that. I don’t know what exactly you’ve—’

‘Then I won’t tell you. You can go home then.’ Jongho fought back his tears, trying to look tough. He turned around, already attempting to climb up the wall again like Spider-Man or something.

‘Alright, fine. I promise. I promise I won’t tell anyone. Will you now please just tell me? I’m going crazy here!’

‘Pinky promise!’

Jongho had returned to him, holding up his pinky finger to Seonghwa’s face. Seonghwa suppressed the urge to sigh, this situation was serious and if he could win Jongho’s trust like that, why the hell not. He wrapped his little finger around Jongho’s, looking him in the eyes again and telling him he swore he would not tell anyone.

‘Okay.’ Jongho took a deep breath. ‘I...know who, _well_, at least I saw who, _you know_, took, _I guess_, yeah, kidnapped, maybe? No, he said he hadn’t been kidnapped, but again, what if that was not the truth, _anyways_, what I’m trying to say is that, _you see,_ it’s a little funny, I guess, but it’s actually completely not funny, I mean—’

‘Jongho. Calm down. Talk slowly.’ Seonghwa did not understand one word. What he hell was he trying to say?

Jongho fell silent, Seonghwa could literally see how he collected all his courage, his hands clenching into fists, his shoulders hunching. His lips were tightly pressed together up until the moment he completely relaxed and let loose, let his shoulders sink and finally decided he was ready to speak it out, to say something Seonghwa had never expected to hear from him or from literally anyone.

‘I saw Wooyoung.’

Seonghwa’s mind? Blank. His expression? Blank as well.

‘Pardon? Did you just say you saw Wooyoung? Are we talking about the same Wooyoung? The missing one?’

Silent nodding.

Then it kicked in. Holy _fuck_ he saw Wooyoung? He saw him and he did not contact the police? Or at least call Seonghwa, his beloved hyung? What the hell?

‘Jongho—’

‘Let me explain, okay! Before you judge me.’ Jongho quickly interrupted Seonghwa, knowing exactly he was trying to come at him. But Seonghwa gave in, he nodded at him and kept quiet, even though he was internally screaming. If he wanted to get anything out of Jongho, he had to stay calm and let him speak. Jongho looked away again. ‘They...sometimes come to the coffee shop I’m working at.’

‘They? _Sometimes?’_

Jongho nodded. Holy, _oh God_, Seonghwa suddenly felt the need to sit down.

‘I wasn’t sure when I saw them the first time but...last Sunday I saw them again. And...and it was Wooyoung.’ Jongho’s voice was gradually becoming quieter and quieter. Seonghwa’s breathing on the other hand was becoming louder and louder, he felt dizzy, not really realizing what Jongho was saying while knowing exactly what the _fuck_ he was telling Seonghwa.

‘Jongho, what do you mean, _them_? Was he okay? God, he’s alive. Oh God.’ Seonghwa felt his heart drop, he put his hands on his knees, feeling super exhausted. ‘Why, Jongho, why didn’t you call the police? Or tell me, I—’

‘Let me finish, okay?’ Jongho begged him quietly. Never did Seonghwa see him like that. So unsure, so sad. So full of guilt. ‘I wanted to call the police. I wanted to get help, but Wooyoung did not let me.’

Again, pardon?

‘I got to talk to him. I told him I could help, that I would call police that I, I really wanted to help but he...’ There it was, the first tear rolling down his reddened cheek. ‘He even got angry at me when I mentioned the police. He, he said he was fine.’

Jongho’s eyes glistened as he looked at Seonghwa. It broke his heart to see him like that. So many questions were starting to form in his head and he did not know where to begin.

‘But you didn’t think he was alright?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jongho shrugged, he sounded so exhausted. ‘To be honest, he looked happy. When I observed him and the boy he was with, he really genuinely made the impression that he was alright. There were no scratches, no bruises, nothing. They were laughing, smiling at each other. The only thing that was different was his hair. He had dyed it brown.’

‘Brown?’ Seonghwa frowned. ‘Are you sure it was Wooyoung?’

‘Hundred percent sure. As I said, I talked to him. He told me he hadn’t been kidnapped by that guy, that he was happy and that he just wished we all would leave him alone.’ Jongho looked up. ‘I didn’t believe him at first, you know? But he looked so tired, hyung. He looked so sad, so exhausted when I told him I would call for help. I...even think they are in love, maybe.’

‘In love? Wooyoung and this...other man?’

Jongho nodded. ‘He told me that he finally learned how true love felt after meeting that person. And, when I think back, they really looked like they were in love but...but I can’t stop thinking about the possibility that he was brainwashed. That I made a huge mistake by letting him slip through my fingertips just like that. What if they never come back? What if Wooyoung won’t ever come back home because I was too stupid to call for help?’

‘You’re not stupid, Jongho.’ Seonghwa placed his hands on Jongho’s shoulders, deeply looking him in the eyes. But Jongho’s tears started rolling down his cheeks like little waterfalls and Seonghwa decided to pull him into a tight hug.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you immediately. I just, I was so scared. I was so afraid I made a huge mistake, and I was ashamed. I didn’t know what to do, hyung. Please forgive me.’ Seonghwa felt Jongho’s fingers tightly digging into the fabric of Seonghwa’s coat, pulling him even closer into the hug. He let his hand caress Jongho’s back.

‘It’s okay, Jongho.’ He whispered next to his ear. ‘But you know I’ll have to do something.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
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> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  



	24. You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I’m finally back!!  
We’re slowly approaching the end..!
> 
> Before I let you read the chapter, quick question: What do y’all think about interactive AUs/fics either here or on twitter? Let me know!
> 
> I hope y’all are looking forward to the chapter next week *winks obnoxiously* ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
Have fun!!! Love you guys!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 23, You**

**제 23 장 , 너**

Seonghwa opened the door to the little coffee shop and stepped inside, the little bell on the ceiling rang, shifting everyone’s attention to the door. Well, it was literally just one pair of eyes. Familiar, dark, puppy eyes. Jongho’s eyes. He let out a loud sigh after he recognized Seonghwa who was hiding his face underneath a cap, crossing his arms and raising one of his eyebrows.

‘Again?’ He asked, hinting at the fact that Seonghwa had spent the whole day at the coffee shop the day before and now had come back for another stake-out because yesterday he had left without success. ‘I told you this was useless. They’re not gonna come back. You’re wasting your time.’

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. He did not care if he was wasting his time. There was a little chance that Wooyoung was going to come back to the café, together with this mysterious man that Seonghwa was dying to see. It had been a little difficult to come up with a plausible excuse for this whole situation. It was hard to explain to Yunho that he was technically working on the case, that he was researching something but he had to do it on his own, without him interfering. And while Yunho had not stopped asking him questions about the whys and hows, Seonghwa had made sure not to say too much. Of course it was a little ridiculous of him to not tell his own partner about his actions, especially because they were working on the case together as a team, but Seonghwa sometimes just did not like playing by the rules. And there was still this little promise that Seonghwa had given Jongho just two days ago. Jongho was important to Seonghwa and the whole situation was really messing with him, he had never seen Jongho so upset about something and Seonghwa just did not want him to get involved with police again. Seonghwa knew that deep down, it was not the police that Jongho was fearing. It was much more about what would happen afterwards, the fear of what his parents might do to him, and Seonghwa did not want to make Jongho’s relationship with his parents even worse than it already was. Jongho did not need that crap. So Seonghwa had come up with a little plan:

Go to the coffee shop, wait until Wooyoung and the mysterious man would come through the very door through which Seonghwa had just come in and then, well, whatever would happen next. Like that, the case would be solved and Jongho would only be the employee that happened to be working his shift while the missing person just coincidentally happened to be in that very café while Seonghwa was there too, grabbing a coffee during his break. Perfect, was it not?

‘Just give me a regular coffee, would you?’ Seonghwa sighed, rolling his eyes.

‘I could just call you when they come in. _If_ they come in, which I don’t think they will. Don’t you have other things to do? You could be working on the case a lot more efficiently instead of being here, doing literally nothing.’

Seonghwa watched as Jongho prepared his coffee anyway, then he put the little bag that he was holding in his hands onto the counter. Jongho looked at him confused.

‘I got a little something for you.’ Seonghwa said, watching as Jongho opened it up. His eyes widened. ‘I figured your mood would lighten a bit up if you could play your stupid games again.’

‘But Hyung!’ Jongho quickly took out the little box, examining it thoroughly before opening it up super carefully. He took the phone into his hand, his mouth stood open. ‘You can’t be serious!’

‘Just accept it, okay? I know you won’t get a new one from your parents any time soon.’ Seonghwa smiled a little as he took out his wallet to pay for the coffee.

‘No, no.’ Jongho quickly pushed away his hand. ‘Coffee’s on me.’

See there, he was smiling again. He knew this would work. ‘Alright, but make sure to add me to your contacts. I’ll go nuts if you ever ignore my messages again.’

Seonghwa took his coffee and sat down at the same table at which he had sat the day before, from where you could see Wooyoung’s favorite table at which they would sit down whenever they came into the café. 

‘Thanks, Hyung.’ He heard Jongho say, Seonghwa just nodded. It was the least he could do. Jongho had basically solved the case, and he had gone through a lot. Seonghwa took a sip from his coffee, then he leaned back. Now all he could do was wait.

It felt like the time was not passing at all. Seonghwa’s eyes repeatedly wandered from the door to his phone to Jongho and back. Sometimes Jongho would come over to Seonghwa’s table to re-fill his coffee and chat with him a little. But minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days. Whenever the door opened and someone came into the café, Seonghwa’s heart dropped, but then all he could feel was disappointment when he realized that it was not Wooyoung who had just entered the café. He would also constantly check with Jongho to see if maybe any of the people coming in was the mysterious man, but that had not happened either. Seonghwa knew that the chances of Wooyoung actually coming back to the coffee shop after Jongho had found out about him was very low. Actually, it was almost zero. But only almost. There was still a little hope and since they had no other leads at the moment, it was worth staying here. At least that was what Seonghwa constantly told himself to make himself feel better about this whole situation.

Seonghwa remembered his conversation with Jongho the other day. He had asked him a little more about what exactly he had observed, what the mysterious man looked like, and it seemed like Mingi had not been talking crap after all. Jongho had told Seonghwa that while the suspect had always been wearing a hat whenever they had come to the café, he could see that his hair was blonde, almost white. This matched with what Mingi had told them, and according to Jongho’s description, their theory about the man not being super old but rather young was also confirmed. Jongho estimated him around Wooyoung’s age, and on top of that he said that one time they even had a camera with them and it looked very similar to the one on the CCTV footage. Seonghwa was sure that they had the culprit, that they had the right lead. But the only question now was if that person really was a culprit, a bad person, a stalker and kidnapper.

It was a little hard for Seonghwa to imagine how Wooyoung and that man were all lovey-dovey together. Maybe Wooyoung acted like that out of fear, maybe he had to act like that because that man had told him so. It could also be Stockholm Syndrome and Wooyoung had been tricked into believing that the man was good for him. Maybe Wooyoung even liked his attention. From what he had heard about Wooyoung, that theory was not so much out of the world as it might sounded. 

But maybe, none of Seonghwa’s theories applied. 

His eyes wandered once again to the display of his phone, he saw the time change from 4:33 to 4:34 p.m. Another sigh left his lips, the bell at the door rang.

He quickly looked up, seeing two young men enter the cafe. His head turned to Jongho, pure shock in his eyes. The two men were close to each other, mostly dressed in black and one of them was wearing a cap. It was them. Seonghwa immediately knew that his waiting had come to an end, that the situation had just become a lot more serious. He turned his face to Jongho who looked at him panicky, but with a slight hand gesture Seonghwa signaled him to calm down and act like nothing was going on. He had already told Jongho yesterday that he had to act normal if the two should enter the café so that their plan could work out, but he understood that Jongho was nervous. Seonghwa was nervous himself. Their faces hidden from Seonghwa’s view, they went over to the exact table that Jongho had pointed out as their regular table. One of them sat down, his face was hidden by the frame of the other and they talked for a short while about what they wanted to eat. There were a few whispers, Seonghwa wondered why one of the voices sounded so familiar, but he just could not match it to any of the faces he knew. Then the one standing went over to Jongho, probably giving up their order. 

Seonghwa’s eyes followed the person to the counter. Looking at him from behind, he spotted the dark hair and he immediately understood that it had to be Wooyoung. His heart was pounding, it felt unreal to see him alive, seemingly without an injury, without a single scratch or bruise. But Seonghwa wanted to see his face, he wanted to look him in the eyes, make sure that it really was him, the missing boy.

He wondered what exactly he was saying to Jongho who looked super nervous, and every attempt to conceal it failed miserably. Seonghwa could see his shaky hands from afar and with ever fake smile he put on the corners of his mouth twitched. He had to stay strong.

Jongho reached out his hand to take the cash that Wooyoung had put onto the counter, but before he could do so, Wooyoung’s very hand grabbed that of Jongho. His grip looked firm, but not in a way that would hurt. Jongho let out a gasp that even Seonghwa could hear, visibly confused by Wooyoung’s action. It seemed like he was whispering to Jongho and with every second, the young employee seemed to become more and more relaxed. His hunched shoulders dropped, the shaking stopped and his shocked expression faded. Seonghwa was dying to know what Wooyoung had told him, but only seconds after he had grabbed Jongho’s hand, he already let go of it again and let Jongho take the cash.

Was he talking about last time? Was he maybe threatening Jongho? But if that was the case, why would Jongho suddenly become so calm? Would it not rather freak him out a little more?

Jongho turned away from Wooyoung, he was avoiding Seonghwa’s glance and he did it on purpose. While he was taking out a piece of cake, Wooyoung turned his body into Seonghwa’s direction. He leaned against the counter, waiting for Jongho to prepare their order and then finally, finally Seonghwa could spare a glance at his face.

Those innocent eyes and his plump lips one would never believe could tell such horrendous lies. How flawless his skin looked, without the hint of a scratch. It freaked Seonghwa out. It freaked him out how this young man was standing in front of him, so calm and unharmed when everyone expected his cold and lifeless body to be lying in some ditch. Was Seonghwa mad? Was he mad about how he spent weeks looking for him, worrying about him during sleepless nights because he feared the next morning they would find his cut up body parts spread across Seoul? Was he mad to see him so unbothered, so intact and stable in front of him right now, because everything they had done to find him seemed so utterly in vain now? Or was Seonghwa relieved to see him alive, content even, with this little smile on his face? God, it was _Wooyoung_. It was Wooyoung in front of him, ordering a damn café like it was the most normal thing to do while the whole country was looking for him. Something about this felt so wrong, so eerie. It was almost like a dream and he could wake up any second and Wooyoung would be gone again. But he was there, in front of him. Seonghwa’s feet itched, he really had to hold himself back from not just jumping up and grabbing him, making sure that he was really fine. But he could not do that, not without knowing more, without knowing who the suspect was.

Seonghwa’s fingers clenched his mug, burying his face behind it after he felt Wooyoung’s gaze drawing nearer, eventually resting on him for a couple of seconds before he could hear Jongho’s voice, it had a much higher pitch to it than usually.

Seonghwa waited for Wooyoung to grab their stuff and return to his table before he dared look at him again. In the end, it was not just Wooyoung he was looking for. Seonghwa was dying to see what man, no, what _creature_ was hiding Wooyoung. It could still be that Wooyoung was in danger, Seonghwa should not just jump the gun and assume things before he actually knew what was going on. Maybe Wooyoung really had been kidnapped. Maybe he had won his kidnapper’s trust a little. Wooyoung could still be hurt underneath the layers of clothes he was wearing.

No matter what the truth was, Seonghwa had one objective: bring Wooyoung home. Safely. 

His eyes were pinned at the back of Wooyoung as he was waiting for him to get out of sight to finally, finally look at the culprit. The monster, the kidnapper, the stalker. Whatever names they were calling him in the media. Wooyoung put down the plate with their cake, then their cups. Seonghwa’s heart was pounding so loud in his ears he could not even hear the jazz music that was playing in the background anymore. Why did everything feel like it was in slow motion? In the next moment, Wooyoung finally sat down. The person Seonghwa had been dying to see emerged from behind Wooyoung’s frame, his face still hidden behind his cap and his mask. Seonghwa held his breath when he saw the man remove the mask, exposing smiling lips, even showing a few of his teeth. Did this smile only seem familiar to Seonghwa? He frowned, patiently waiting as the culprit lifted his head, with every centimeter exposing more and more of his facial features. His little nose was next, then his eyes. Dark, dark eyes. Seonghwa put his mug down, he tilted his head, heart racing in his chest like it was running a marathon.

Then it stopped.

Everything stopped. The beating of his heart, with it his breathing. The music quieted down. Time stood still. He felt his stomach turn, who had turned up the heating? The sweat on his hands turned cold but he felt hot, every single thought about Wooyoung vanished, just one word rang in his ears so loudly, he feared it would make him go deaf. 

_ Why? _

Why, why, why?

Why him? Why the little boy he had adored so much, why him who he wanted to protect at all cost, whom he wished nothing but happiness in his miserable, miserable life? Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be...San?

Seonghwa blinked. He could not grasp what was going on in front of his eyes. Was he hallucinating? He blinked again. No, still there. He felt nauseous, he wanted to leave, to run away and escape from all the lies. Pretend he did not see. This was weird, this could not be. How could he have missed this? The worst thing about all this was that it made sense, everything made sense. The camera, the hair, San not wanting to let anyone into his home. Come to think of it, where had Wooyoung been the day on their visit to San’s apartment? It did not matter now. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he misunderstood the whole situation? It could not have been San, no. San was no monster, no stalker and certainly not a kidnapper. He was not, right? _Right?_ But what if he was, hm? What if his innocent looks were exactly why it made so much sense that it had been San all along. No matter what it was, Seonghwa had no choice but to put an end to this. 

His fingers grabbed his phone and unlocked it. This had to stop, a case was a case and work was work. Seonghwa was ready to make Wooyoung go home and...and San.

‘Are you sad?’

His eyes shot up, his fingers on the display stopped moving. Wooyoung’s words were clear, he could understand him well. But sad? Why sad? With his hands tightly wrapped around his phone, Seonghwa stared at the both of them, but he kept his head low, fearing that San would look at him and recognize him. Everything would be over if that happened. The little smile that had been on San’s lips up until now had vanished, he lowered his gaze.

‘A little. It was nice having him around sometimes, he’s a sweet boy. I’ll miss him.’

Miss who? San’s voice was much quieter than Wooyoung’s but if Seonghwa listened closely, he could still hear most of what he was saying. He saw Wooyoung lift his hand to San’s cheek, cupping it softly. Seonghwa shuddered. Was he watching a movie? This could not be real.

‘It’s okay. We can visit them as often as you want. And besides that, you still have me, right?’

Ah, this felt so surreal. In an instant, San’s smile had returned and, _God_, his smile. When had Seonghwa ever seen him smile like that? Never, probably. Not even on the day his father died. 

Seonghwa turned his head to Jongho who happened to be staring at him confused, he was probably waiting for Seonghwa to do something, to act. To do his job and finally arrest the culprit, to arrest San. But Seonghwa’s feet did not move, not even the fingers on his phone screen did something. He was frozen, completely frozen.

Did it make sense? It probably did, right? Of course San would end up going to the bad. With that kind of family that he had, that he _once_ had, there was no way around it, right? Sooner or later he would’ve exploded anyway. So had he stalked Wooyoung? Had he followed him around and eventually kidnapped him? But San would never, never hurt anyone, would he? Right? At least Wooyoung looked okay from the outside. But Seonghwa had believed in him. He had really, really thought San was a good person. He was thoughtful and kind. Maybe a bit strange, yes, but the best people were. So why, San, God, please just tell him why did it have to be you? Why could it not have been someone else? Anyone, really.  Seonghwa had to report them. He had to go up to them and arrest San. He had no choice. If he did not go up to them and arrest them, what kind of detective would that make him? He would be nothing.

But why, just why were his legs not working? Why could he not stand up and just do his job. He had never experienced any difficulties like these before, so why now? Was it because of San and how they were looking at each other with these bright smiles that made them almost look like two cartoon characters falling in love with each other?

They...they could not possibly really be in love, could they?

‘I’m a little worried. The photos, you know.’ San was talking again, his eyebrows furred and he looked worried. Seonghwa believed he was talking about  the photos from the CCTV. The ones that were scattered everywhere across the city, next to the missing person posters from Wooyoung where everyone passing by could take a close look at them.

He saw Wooyoung gulp, but he put up a confident smile. ‘It will be fine. If they already knew it was you, they would’ve come to the apartment. They have no evidence that I’m with you anyway, they won’t find us.’

‘But what if they do and take you away?’

Seonghwa was not sure if he had heard him correctly, San’s voice had turned even quieter, it was almost only a whisper. Wooyoung grabbed San’s hand and leaned towards him, he even had to lift his butt from his chair a little. He grabbed San’s head by his chin, pulling him closer into a—a kiss? Seonghwa’s glance quickly went to look at Jongho before he looked back.

‘They won’t, I promise. They can’t separate us.’

Jongho had told Seonghwa about his conversation with Wooyoung and he had told him that it seemed like he and...San were in love. But was that love? Was it real love? 

Seonghwa observed them, how they were holding hands and looked at each other without exchanging lots of words. Their glances were so intense, it almost seemed like they were communicating only through their eyes. It was almost too cheesy for Seonghwa when San proceeded to feed the cake to Wooyoung, like a fresh teenage couple. It made them almost look normal. Not like a missing person and a wanted culprit but like two teenagers in love.

And what if they were just exactly that? What if they were nothing but a young couple that eloped together? What if this was no crime after all? What if they just were two helpless lovers, their relationship not accepted by society and Wooyoung’s parents. Seonghwa knew that feeling, how difficult it was to be yourself especially in a country like the one they lived in. What if this in front Seonghwa’s eyes was no crime but an innocent love? He was confused, did not know what he should do. His heart was still pounding, his phone screen had turned black again. His mind was empty, there was just one question he was asking himself:

What if the culprit in this was not San, not Wooyoung, but Seonghwa himself?

Will he destroy the lives of two young men in love if he got up and arrested San now? If he took Wooyoung home again, to a family that did not even care if he was home or not? If he was dead or alive? What good would he do?

Seonghwa watched them just living a normal life, at least they were trying to. They looked happy, despite their worries. Were they not scared that any moment, someone could rat them out? Seonghwa believed they were incredibly scared, but they were just trying to live, no? They were still smiling at each other like stupid, making them look invincible and like no one could ever tear them apart. Seonghwa did not even have to try hiding his face too much because they were not paying attention to him anyway. They only had eyes for each other, as if nothing around them mattered, as if they were the only ones around. And this made Seonghwa feel something. He was not sure what it was, if it was something good or bad, but it was a great mixture of emotions. He was sad, happy, afraid. He pitied them.

And finally, Seonghwa felt his legs move. It did not feel like he was the one controlling them, but he just let it happen. He just let them carry his body to the door, now it was him who avoided Jongho’s glance even though he could feel his eyes pierce through his back as he stepped outside. He did not look back, did not think about looking at either San or Wooyoung again. His steps got quicker the further he got away from the little café until he ended up running. It felt like he was sleepwalking, like he was in a weird dream. The hundreds of posters of the CCTV footage he was passing all glanced at him eerily. It made him uncomfortable up to the point where he actually tore six, seven of them down and crumbled them so they would stop staring at him. His brain did not want to process what he was doing, what he had just done, how he had just let go the missing boy and San. But his heart knew exactly what he had to do and it kept him going, it was not like he could stop. He was not even sure if he wanted to stop. 

He heard his phone ring in his pocket, he knew exactly who it was without looking at the display. He just let it ring until it stopped, he had no time for that, no time for explanations simply because he had none. All he knew was that he had to put this all to an end, make it stop.

His legs carried him all the way to the police station. The posters ended up in the trash before he went in. He looked around and searched for one specific person. He did not care what he would say, what he would do or how he would react. Seonghwa did not care about any of that. He was the boss, he was the one to decide. Yunho had to obey.

Seonghwa was trying to catch his breath while looking around, making his way to his office. He opened the door, and finally he had found who he was looking for. He closed the door behind him, only then did the other notice him and turned around.

‘Detective Park!’ Seonghwa saw him take his phone away from his ear, why did he look so upset? Was Seonghwa hallucinating? Before Seonghwa could ask what the problem was, before he could even find his voice, Yunho just continued. ‘I was talking to Kim Hongjoong. I—I told him about the CCTV, about our progress and I even asked if he had found out anything else. But do you know what he told me?’

_Breathe, Seonghwa. Breathe._ He tried his best to sound calm. ‘What did he tell you?’

Yunho shook his head in disbelief, fiddling with his phone in his hand. ‘He just told me he stopped working on the story. Just like that, he gave up.’

Seonghwa blinked. Oh. So it seemed like he was not the only one who knew the real suspect. Maybe Seonghwa should stop saying the word suspect at that point.

‘It’s fine. We’ve already come so far, we can definitely do this without him. I just thought maybe he knew something. But it’s okay, we can work this out. What do you think?’

Seonghwa gulped. Yeah, what did he think? He knew exactly what he was thinking, knew exactly what he wanted to do next. And the fact that Hongjoong knew about San, he definitely did, but decided not to tell police only reassured Seonghwa about his decision.

‘The case.’ Seonghwa said then said. His voice was calm and quiet. ‘I’m suspending the case.’

First there was no reaction, but after a few seconds Yunho’s eyes grew bigger, his jaw dropped in disbelief. ‘What? Detective, I don’t understand. We...you can’t just suspend the? We’re getting closer, we almost have the culprit, I can feel it!’

Oh, if he only knew how close they were. ‘Let’s face it, Yunho. We’re still nowhere. The camera footage doesn’t prove anything either. No one even cares about that boy, not his family, no one. Let’s just stop. There are dozens of other cases waiting for us, cases we can actually solve.’

‘Do you even realize what you’re saying? He could be dead somewhere. Or he’s alive, but barely, and waits for us to come to his rescue!’

‘But what if he’s not!’ Seonghwa’s voice got louder, resulting in Yunho to completely shut up. His expression was so utterly disappointed, but Seonghwa did not care, because he knew better. ‘What if he just ran away from his family because they don’t care about him. What if he just wants to live?’

Yunho bit his lips, he shook his head. ‘You can’t just suspend the case that easily.’

Seonghwa sighed, wanted to talk back, but Yunho did not let him. ‘I guess what everyone’s saying about you is true then. You only ever do what benefits you, and when a case gets too complicated, you just stop. Isn’t that so?’

‘I don’t care what you think about me, Yunho. I’m not even asking for you to understand but just to accept it.’

Yunho shook his head, he came closer and Seonghwa hated how the younger one was taller than him. ‘I’ll tell you one thing, Detective Park. I’ll find that boy. And if it’s the last thing I’m doing.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	25. Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God here it IS! I know this is the chapter y’all have been anticipating the most! BUT.
> 
> Please give a round of applause to my dear friend SariErrbody who helped me out SO much with this chapter and without her, it would’ve never happened! I can already go as far as to say this is a collaboration with her, because of how much she actually contributed to the chapter. She’s awesome, and I hope you all check out her amazing stories [here ♡ ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SariErrbody/works) as well as her Twitter right [here!](https://twitter.com/Sarisari_bb)  
(There’s a super cool fic inspired by this work on her profile, [click!!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653249?view_adult=true))  
Again, thank you so much, and I love you, and I ain’t gon ever stop loving you. 🥺  
Now, folks. Let me speak out the warning:
> 
> This chapter is pure NSFW! Mind the tags, and now, have fun and let me know what you think about the chapter!!^^♡

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 24, Us**

**제 24 장 , 우리**

His eyes followed San’s sluggish movements. A sleepy smile formed on his lips when he saw that Wooyoung had already been awake before him, had watched him sleep. It was one of those days where you could have mistaken it for a day in spring, maybe even summer, because the late morning sun was shining so brightly into the room, embracing their bodies just like they were embracing each other. But it was winter, it was cold outside, even a little cold inside the apartment, but Wooyoung did not feel any of it. It was so lovingly warm inside San’s arms, in these long arms that were tracing along Wooyoung’s exposed upper arm, along his waist and Wooyoung tried not to giggle at the ticklish feeling. San’s fingers moved underneath the loose shirt that Wooyoung was wearing and he just couldn’t tell if it was his own body or San’s fingers that were a little cold. He just felt the goosebumps spread across his torso, San tracing them with his pointer finger as though he was reading braille, followed by a barely audible giggle. Wooyoung could not help but start giggling himself. He lifted his head a little to look at San who had closed his eyes again, he seemed so relaxed. Wooyoung wondered if he had ever seen him so relaxed before.

He had been awake for maybe two hours now, San had just woken up a few minutes ago. Wooyoung had slept well, how could he not sleep well next to San, but something was bothering him. This uncomfortable feeling hadn’t just started becoming clear to him after waking up from his sleep, no, it had been present for a few days now. It was a weird sensation that Wooyoung had never felt before, so he could not quite say if it was something good or bad. All he knew was that it was not San’s fault, that it was not that he felt uncomfortable around San. If anything, Wooyoung had never felt more comfortable around a person before. But there was something, something weird and Wooyoung couldn’t figure out what it was. It made him a little crazy inside, and the more he thought about it, the more he tried to understand it, he felt like he understood it even less and it panicked him. For the past two hours, Wooyoung had been trying to find an answer but he figured he didn’t even know the question he was trying to answer. All he knew was that it felt like something was going to happen, but not knowing what exactly it was drove him insane. Should he be worried? Or was he overreacting? But more importantly:

Did San feel it, too?

Wooyoung placed his hands on San’s hand that was still hidden underneath his shirt, sitting on Wooyoung’s skin. Wooyoung maneuvered it a little further up and San let him. His fingers running across the sensitive skin on Wooyoung’s chest. He had caught San’s attention. He had opened his eyes again, glancing at Wooyoung from the corner of his eyes. Wooyoung liked that. He let go of San’s hand again, letting it do it’s thing. Wooyoung’s shirt had slid up, exposing a great deal of his upper body. Somehow he wanted to get rid of it completely, wanted to get rid of everything he was wearing. What would it feel like being completely naked in front of San? Would he feel vulnerable or even embarrassed? But what could he possibly be ashamed of? He bet San would shower him with compliments, telling him how even the little childhood scars looked beautiful. And then he started fantasizing about San’s body. Wooyoung was a little curious about it. Did he have any flaws? Moles in weird and unusual places? Wooyoung wished he knew.

‘What are you thinking about?’ San’s sleepy, raspy voice brought Wooyoung back to reality. He felt how San was shifting his body, moving closer to Wooyoung and leaning towards him more, his head moving to Wooyoung’s neck, kissing it here and there. San’s hand found its way down to Wooyoung’s waist again, grasping it ever so softly.

Now it was Wooyoung’s turn to close his eyes, a pleased sigh left his lips before he decided to answer San’s question briefly. ‘You.’

‘Me?’ He heard San giggle. ‘And what exactly were you thinking about me?’

San proceeded to kiss Wooyoung’s neck, not sparing a single inch of skin from his kisses. Wooyoung was not sure what he should answer, if he should answer.

‘Should I be honest with you?’ He said with his eyes still closed. The only response he got was a quiet nod from San, the sweet kissing uninterrupted as he got a little further down, now conquering Wooyoung’s collarbone. Well, what did Wooyoung have to lose? ‘I was imagining how you’d look naked.’

Wooyoung had managed to say that with a firm voice, though his eyes were still shut. Only after he could not feel San’s wet lips on his skin anymore did he decide to open them, just to see San leaning over him, his face only a few inches away from Wooyoung’s and his expression mixed with surprise and curiosity.

‘How...did you imagine me?’ He asked a little carefully.

‘Pretty.’ Wooyoung retorted.

The room fell silent for a minute. Then San spoke to him again. ‘Do you want to see?’

Yes. _ Yes _, he wanted to see. He was curious. He knew that San was pretty, his face already was, but how pretty would he be when he was completely naked? It was a little mystery that Wooyoung wanted to solve. He nodded shyly.

San rolled onto his back, he shoved the blanket aside only a little so that his body was exposed but Wooyoung was still snuggled up inside so he would not get cold, how thoughtful. He then proceeded with getting rid of his shirt. Wooyoung had seen him like this a few times before. He liked San’s waist, it was thinner compared to his chest and it almost made him look a little feminine. It almost made Wooyoung a little jealous, he didn’t have that. Then San put his hands to his shorts, and knowing what was about to come, Wooyoung felt his blood rush to his cheeks and to _ another _area of his body, but he couldn’t look away. San lifted his hips a few inches, then pulled his shorts over his butt, all the way down to his knees, fiddling with them with his feet until he was eventually completely free from them.

Wooyoung gulped, his eyes stuck on San’s crotch and as much as he tried, he could not look away, even after San had turned his body to Wooyoung again. He could feel San’s eyes on him. When Wooyoung finally managed to look up to San, away from his private parts, it was almost like a big question mark was stuck to San’s forehead, almost as though he was anticipating for Wooyoung to rate his looks.

‘I was right.’ Wooyoung said, smiling a little. He was not lying. He really thought San looked beautiful. Somehow, the fact that San did not care about just exposing himself to Wooyoung felt soothing, it made this whole situation a lot less weirder than it might have looked from the outside. Wooyoung was not uncomfortable with what they were doing, but he was wondering about one thing. ‘Have you ever seen me naked?’

San let his head sink into the pillow right next to Wooyoung’s face. ‘Not completely, no.’

Wooyoung’s eyes widened a little, looking at San in disbelief. ‘That means I’ve seen you naked before you could see me naked!’

San laughed a little and nodded at him. _ Finally_. He knew something about San that San did not know about Wooyoung. How he looked naked. It felt so satisfying...

‘Are you curious?’ He then asked San. ‘How I look naked?’

‘I’m dying to know.’

Of course he did. Wooyoung smiled and let his finger run across San’s exposed chest. ‘Do you want to help me undress?’

Wooyoung’s voice was barely audible, yet it was firm, almost a little challenging. He looked San in the eyes just to see a flame of excitement spark in them. Wooyoung loved this expression.

‘If you let me?’ San asked, and Wooyoung nodded before he could even finish his sentence. 

And without any more hesitation, San came closer, his hot breath already sticking to Wooyoung’s face. He had pulled up Wooyoung’s shirt all the way now, and Wooyoung helped him get rid of it by lifting his arms, letting San do the rest. He let his arms sink into the pillow again, eyes observing San’s every movement. He understood what San was going to do next when he felt his hands on his butt, grasping the fabric that was still covering it. San tugged on it, then he felt a slight breeze between his legs, the feeling of freedom was good. San had pulled the shorts down to Wooyoung’s thighs, waiting for him to do the rest but Wooyoung did not move. It took San a little while before he understood, his body slowly moving down on Wooyoung’s, his hair brushing against the skin on Wooyoung’s chest, on his belly. It was a little hard for him to keep his breathing even and calm, considering how close San’s face was to his privates. He did not want to look nervous, but the more he thought about breathing like a normal person, the weirder it felt and the more his chest was lifting and sinking at an unsteady pace. Soon he felt San pulling down his shorts all the way until he was completely free of them.

Curious about what San thought of his naked body, he anticipated his head reappearing next to him again, but it did not. He rather felt San’s hands wrap around his thighs, digging into his flesh. Looking down, Wooyoung only just realized how close San’s face was to his body, his eyes and his lips so near to Wooyoung’s privates. The image alone had Wooyoung feelIng his blood rush into that direction.

‘I can’t believe how pretty you are, Wooyoung.’ He heard San’s damp voice, it made him smile. Oh, how wonderful these words sounded in his ears. ‘How is this possible, _please,_ tell me.’

Wooyoung just giggled, not responding to him properly. It was not like he knew the answer. He just was pretty, that was all. Seconds after, he could detect San’s lips on his thighs, continuing his little kissing spree that he had started on Wooyoung’s neck only moments ago. Wooyoung shuddered, he did not realize how sensitive this area was. His hands moved downwards, searching for something he could grasp. He felt San’s soft hair brush against his fingertips as his lips moved more inwards and Wooyoung took the chance to thread his fingers through it, almost forcing him to stay close. Wooyoung gasped, his grip slightly tightened when he felt something much wetter and hotter on his skin than San’s lips. It was difficult for him to see what exactly he was doing, but he understood that it was San’s tongue. The tingling sensation in his lower stomach amplified, it felt much like looking at static noise when the TV had no signal. Wooyoung knew what that meant, he knew what was about to happen—or what had already started happening. 

Wooyoung had never been hard in front of someone. Well, no, that was a lie. He had been, but no one had ever noticed, at least that was what he believed. He knew that his cheeks had turned all shades of pink and red, but he did not dislike being next to San like this. On the contrary, he even enjoyed it, maybe more than it was normal. But what about them was normal, huh? Wooyoung liked his body, he loved how he looked and finally he could show off those parts that no one ever got to appreciate on him. And he liked how finally it was not his own hand, no porn video or wet dream that got him into this state. It was San, and only him and his beautiful touches. 

Wooyoung had started to feel this desire again. The desire for San, for his body, to become one, because there was no _ me_, no _ him_, there was just _ them_. It was an aching desire that he had started to feel ever since they had become a little more intimate with each other and he knew that when he did not satisfy his desire as soon as possible, he would go insane. More than he had already had, probably.

Before he could think more about it, his hands reached out for San’s face, cupping his cheeks and pulling him up so his face was next to Wooyoung’s again. He moved closer until his lips were at San’s ears, their sudden closeness resulting in Wooyoung feeling San’s manhood against his own and _ God_, this feeling. He bit his lips, trying not to make too much noise but he could hear San too, could hear a little moan leaving his lips. He was feeling the same as Wooyoung, the same excitement, the same arousal.

‘San,’ Wooyoung breathed, shocked at himself how needy his voice sounded. ‘What would you say if I asked you if you want to do it with me?’

Silence.

‘San, speak to me.’ Wooyoung pleaded, pressing his body against the other’s even tighter, anticipating a response. The next moment he felt San’s hand grab Wooyoung’s waist firmly, forcing his body back into the pillows and then there were San’s lips on his own, his whole body leaning into the kiss with so much pressure that it maybe would have hurt if it had not felt so damn good. San’s kissing was rough, rougher than ever before, leaving traces of his saliva in Wooyoung’s mouth, on his lips and around them, it was a mess. Wooyoung tried to follow his lead as best as he could, the sudden shift of San’s character taking him off guard, but it was nothing new to him. He had noticed this before, it had happened a few times when they were kissing, too. San would go from being gentle and soft to rough and demanding in an instant, almost as though someone was flicking a switch in his body. Wooyoung wondered what exactly the trigger for this switch was, besides the fact that only Wooyoung had access to it.

Their lips parted, Wooyoung opened his eyes just to look directly into San’s. Before Wooyoung could ask his question once more, San began nodding hastily.

‘Yes.’ His voice was so desperate. ‘If you let me sleep with you, Wooyoung, if you want it, then yes. I would say yes.’

‘I want it.’ Wooyoung quickly retorted. There was not even one hint of doubt. ‘I just—I’ve never done this before. I just know how it works in theory I—’

‘Wooyoung?’ Sweet San was back. ‘Do you want to figure it out together?’

He nodded slightly. San smiled at him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. ‘Give me one second, don’t move.’

San got off of him and got up, Wooyoung was able to get a look at San’s whole exposed body and he suddenly had no words, nothing but a wow echoed through his head and he wondered, suddenly, if he even was remotely as pretty as San.

He watched him leave the room, Wooyoung’s eyes wandered to the ceiling, staring at it. He was not nervous, not even a little bit. Was it because he did not really realize what was about to happen when San came back or because he knew _ exactly_? Wooyoung was not experienced at all. Yes, he had watched porn several times, and he had played with himself even more often, but that did not exactly transform him into some kind of sex god. He did not believe that San had more experience than him. But maybe he knew more, knew what would feel good. And even if he did not, just as he said: they would figure it out together. 

Almost as quickly as he had disappeared, San had come back again and sat next to Wooyoung, a condom between his lips and a towel in hand. And in his other hand he was carrying, what, coconut oil?

‘How come you have condoms at home?’ Wooyoung asked while San took it out of his mouth to put it on the floor together with the bottle of oil.

‘Hongjoong gave it to me on my birthday. Said I should go out and meet people, have fun.’ San retorted and Wooyoung laughed. If it was not for Hongjoong...

San leaned over Wooyoung again, smiling at him. ‘So, are you ready?’

‘More ready than ever.’

‘Okay.’ San breathed, eyes moving down on Wooyoung. ‘How do you want to do it?’

Wooyoung pondered. He wasn’t sure. He wanted San, but how did he want him? Wanting someone was so new to him, while San had been wanting him for what, years? 

‘How do you want it?’ Wooyoung asked. ‘You must have thought about it before. How did you picture it?’

San gulped. After a beat to compose himself he answered. ‘I’ve always pictured you under me… Pictured… me inside you.’

Wooyoung blinked at him, noticing San’s cheeks had turned pink with the admission. How cute. Wooyoung nodded. ‘Okay, let’s do that then.’

San nodded stiffly. 

Wooyoung smiled and pulled San in by his nape, kissing him firmly. He pulled back and looked San in the eyes. ‘So how do we do this?’ 

San settled on his knees, spreading Wooyoung’s legs with his hands to sit in between them. He took the container of coconut oil. ‘We need to stretch you out, to make it easier.’ He said.

He unscrewed the cap and plunged a finger inside. 

Wooyoung watched as San removed the slick digit, moving it lower until it disappeared in between his legs. He felt the cold digit press into his hole, and flinched in surprise.

San halted, eyes flicking in between Wooyoung’s searchingly.

‘It’s cold.’ Wooyoung said, breathing out a little laugh. ‘You can keep going.’

San nodded and pressed his finger in, breaching the surface to fully sink into Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung let out a deep breath. It felt weird, having something in him. It didn’t hurt, but as San wiggled his finger inside, it was starting to feel less uncomfortable.

San had watched the finger go in, but his attention was now on Wooyoung’s face. Wooyoung nodded at him, and San reached back to the coconut oil, this time submerging two fingers. He moved his slick fingers back to Wooyoung’s hole, slipping the first inside and nudging the second in alongside it. Wooyoung grimaced, the stretch stung. 

‘Try to relax your lower body. Breathe.’ San urged gently, so Wooyoung breathed in deep and tried, feeling the intrusion came easier when his muscles weren’t so tense.

Finally with two fingers fully inside him, San began to move, scissoring his fingers back and forth to stretch him. Wooyoung could hear the wet sounds the action was making, and felt his ears burn. He was relieved he could only hear what was going on. San however, was watching his actions intently. He looked determined, and maybe a little scared, like he was performing a serious operation that must be handled with extreme care. But Wooyoung finally started to feel the pain fade, replaced with just a nagging discomfort.

‘Do you think we need to do another?’ He asked, breaking San from his stupor. San looked up at him, face full of concern.

‘Already?’ He asked.

‘Yeah, I’m okay.’ Wooyoung answered. He reached for San’s face, brushing across his beautifully sharpened cheekbone with his thumb. ‘You can add another.’

San nodded, and reached into the oil to lube up a third finger. He slid the previous two fingers in easily, before slowly prodding in with the third. It hurt, but Wooyoung was not deterred. He took deep steadying breaths and balled his fists into the blankets, focusing his pain into his knuckles squeezing the blanket. He released his grip, remembering he had to relax. And then it finally slid all the way in, and he felt the fingers pause. Wooyoung opened his eyes to see San watching him closely.

‘Are you okay?’ San asked. ‘We can stop here, I can take it out.’

‘No it’s okay.’ Wooyoung said. ‘I’m okay. I just need a second.’

‘You’re amazing.’ San said, he leaned forward to plant kisses on Wooyoung’s lower stomach. Wooyoung gasped, the sensitive skin tingled where San’s lips went, it was a welcome distraction from the pain he was feeling. ‘You’re so perfect, so amazing.’ San murmured into his skin, trailing the kisses lower to Wooyoung’s now half-hard cock. He placed a kiss there, too, and Wooyoung felt it twitch with interest. San continued to kiss him there, and Wooyoung watched as San opened his mouth to take the tip of Wooyoung’s cock in his mouth. San looked gorgeous, hair falling in his eyes as he took more of Wooyoung in. Wooyoung moaned, feeling his cock fill out more despite the feeling of discomfort elsewhere. San bobbed his head as he started to move his fingers. Wooyoung didn’t mind the stretching feeling anymore, not with San’s warm mouth around him. San probably knew Wooyoung needed the distraction.

Wooyoung moaned, finally feeling like they were doing it, finally something that felt like he and San were having sex. San moved his fingers more liberally now, twisting and hooking them inside Wooyoung. His movements felt different now, like he wasn’t just stretching him. Wooyoung wanted to ask, wanted to get on with it, when he felt a sudden strong pressure, like he needed to pee. He gasped out.

‘AH! Wait! wait!’

San raised himself off of Wooyoung’s dick, retracting his fingers from the spot inside him, holding them still at a more comfortable location. Wooyoung suddenly missed the feeling. It felt weird but he wanted to feel it again.

‘Wait, go back, do that again.’

San pressed his fingers back into the spot, and Wooyoung felt relief when the pressure returned, and desire for more.

‘There’s good. It… it feels good.’ He said shakily, now moving his hips to try and feel it more. San was breathing heavily, mouth red and shiny with spit from sucking on Wooyoung’s dick, he moved his fingers in and out of the other obediently, and Wooyoung almost let himself get carried away. He felt a familiar pressure building in his lower stomach. He grabbed San’s wrist and pulled on it, to remove the fingers from him. ‘I think I’m ready. Can we do it now?’

San’s eyebrows were raised, his lips puckered into a slightly surprised face, but he nodded, moving stiffly to position himself above Wooyoung.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Wooyoung asked him.

San was taking coconut oil in his hand, rubbing the substance on his dick. 

‘I just can’t believe this is happening.’ He said honestly.

Wooyoung smiled, leaning back into the pillows. He couldn’t believe it either, but he was so, _so_ happy. He knew it was going to feel good. How could it not? They had gotten the hard part done, now all that was left was for them to do it together, for him to finally be one with San. 

San moved in between his legs, positioning his dick at Wooyoung’s entrance. He looked at Wooyoung, into his eyes, like he wanted to ask the question, but was also afraid of the answer. Wooyoung answered it anyway. ‘I’m ready, you can start.’

San breathed out shakily, looking back down as he pressed his dick in. It was bigger than the three fingers, but it fit, and was only slightly uncomfortable going in. San pressed in fully, he gasped out when his hips hit Wooyoung’s ass, like he had been holding his breath. 

‘Oh my god.’ San whispered.

Wooyoung may have been holding his breath too, he realized, quickly exhaling and trying to process what he was feelling. He couldn’t seem to mind the discomfort, because he felt so full, full of San, and feeling connected to him was making his heart feel so full, too. San stared at him, eyes wide and full of disbelief, and Wooyoung almost giggled. Wooyoung reached for him, fingers threading through San’s hair as he pulled him in to kiss him, letting their tongues dance while he adjusted to the feeling. He let go, letting San pull back and look him in the eye once more.

‘Move, San.’ He said simply, letting his hands drop to San’s sides, stroking the skin there gently. 

San did, pulling out only slightly, before burying himself back in, afraid to make large movements that would startle or hurt him. The pressure was pleasant, Wooyoung realized, as San shallowly thrust into him again. San began to pick up the pace, developing a steady rhythm. Wooyoung closed his eyes, grabbing San's shoulders for support as the other rocked into him. Wooyoung let the feeling envelop him. It felt good now, but he wanted more, something was missing.

‘San.’ Wooyoung huffed, his fingernails were digging so much into San’s upper arms that little half moon shaped marks were left behind. ‘San, wait. Wait a second.’

San quickly stopped in motion, his puppy eyes widened, fearing he had done something wrong. ‘Are you alright? Did I hurt you?’

He quickly shook his head. ‘No, no. Nothing like that. I just—can I try something? Can I be on top for a bit?’

San blinked, he was thinking for a second before he eagerly nodded his head. ‘Of course.’

San got off of Wooyoung, letting his body sink into the pillows and blankets next to him. Wooyoung sat up and straddled San, their erections brushing against each other elicited a breathy moan from both of them, almost simultaneously. Wooyoung placed his palms on San’s chest, lifting his butt up while San helped positioning himself to glide in again, this time it was fairly easy. Wooyoung took San’s full length, the feeling of being filled up again was exciting and he began moving his hips back and forth slowly at first, getting used to the new position. He increased his tempo, San had grasped his waist as best as he could, almost as if he was trying to do something, to help Wooyoung, but it was Wooyoung who wanted to act now. He wanted to let San know how beautiful he was, how good he could be. With every of Wooyoung’s movements, it started to feel better and better, it made him not want to stop. 

As he closed his eyes, he leaned back, placing his hand on San’s thigh for support. His other hand explored his own body, here, there, trailing along his neck and chest, down to his own erection. Wooyoung knew he looked good, he knew that his sweet sounds made San go crazy and knowing only that let Wooyoung moan ever louder, not just for San’s pleasure, but for his own, too.

‘You’re so...so beautiful.’ Wooyoung cheekily smiled at San’s remark. Yes, he knew. He knew that.

‘Again.’ He was panting and it was hard to talk, to concentrate. ‘Say it again.’

San groaned, his fingers digging into Wooyoung’s flesh. ‘You’re so beautiful, Wooyoung, so immensely beautiful!’

Wooyoung moaned at San’s words. God, it felt so good. How incredibly lucky San must be feeling now, having become one with the only man he had ever desired, being able to do with him whatever he wanted because Wooyoung would say yes to anything. _ Yes _ , he would say, _ yes, San, please _. He would even beg for it. Was this the maximum level? The maximum level of attention Wooyoung could possibly reach? If so, it had been worth it. Everything he had done to come here had been worth the blood, sweat and tears. He would always do it again. Over and over again.

*

San was going crazy, was unable to think. The voices that usually were always there kept silent, the only noise San could hear was Wooyoung’s steamy moaning, the noise of their bodies crushing against each other and his own panting. It did not even feel like a dream this time. It felt so real, so overwhelming, and San could not take it anymore. He felt like he was about to lose control, the pretty faces Wooyoung was making didn’t not help. Why was he so pretty? Why was he so incredibly beautiful while being on top of him, wanting to contribute something? San knew that Wooyoung was trying to show off his flawless body, and it worked. The way he touched himself, licked his lip or bit it when San got in deeper, it made him want to consume Wooyoung even more, made him want to stay like this forever and ever.

When Wooyoung’s pace had become slower, San’s mind went blank, he grabbed Wooyoung’s hand and pulled him down, changing positions with him again so that Wooyoung was under him again. Wooyoung was gasping, eyes widened from surprise but he let San do as he pleased. San lifted Wooyoung by his waist, shoving a pillow underneath his sweet butt, making the position more comfortable for the both of them. As soon as San started thrusting into him again, this time rougher, faster, Wooyoung reached for San’s upper arm, almost screaming from pleasure. San grasped the back of Wooyoung’s knees, pulling him even closer just so he could get deeper into Wooyoung. The fingers of his other hand bore into the flesh on Wooyoung’s thighs, he didn’t know how tightly he was grasping them, he couldn’t control his strength anymore.

When San thrust in again, Wooyoung’s grip around his arm got tighter, his back arched, showing off his beautiful, soft skin. He was gasping heavily, his big eyes pinned on San.

‘There!’ He begged, his voice so utterly desperate. ‘There, again, San!’

San did as he was told, trying to hit the spot again and again, eliciting the most beautiful screams out of Wooyoung. Whenever San blinked, he feared he would miss seeing Wooyoung’s face, how it got filled up with pleasure whenever he managed to hit the right spot, how his eyes curled back and his brows furrowed with every thrust. And the variation of noises Wooyoung made, shifting from breathy pants to loud moans and God, was he happy that the apartment next to them was already empty because he would hate anyone else hearing Wooyoung. These noises were only destined for San, for him alone, almost sounding like a melody, like a song dedicated to San. How good it felt, knowing that no one before him had ever heard these beautiful sounds that came out of Wooyoung’s beautiful mouth with his plump lips. 

Wooyoung kept begging him not to stop, he was so desperate, so needy. He was showing his true self and San loved it. He loved, loved, loved it. San groaned, the combination of the sounds and the fact that he had become one with Wooyoung drove him closer to his climax, he felt it build up inside him.

‘San, I’m—’ Wooyoung’s moans got louder, faster. San understood.

He wrapped his hand around Wooyoung erection, moving in a fast, twisting motion. He wanted to come together with him, at the same time. It would be _ special_. His own pace got faster, he could not help but let out all the different kinds of noises himself, getting closer and closer to finishing.

‘San!’ Wooyoung gasped, grasping San’s arms tightly, hips bucking, his body twisting as he came. His eyes fluttered closed as he moaned, face contorting in ecstasy as he moved his hips involuntarily.

This was enough for San to lose it himself, he hammered in, pinning Wooyoung’s moving hips down to thrust into his body roughly. He felt his lower stomach tightening, felt the pressure that was already building spilling over as he watched his beautiful Wooyoung work through his orgasm. He shuddered, groaning deeply as he pushed deep inside Wooyoung and came. 

Wooyoung’s hands let loose, he let them drop to his sides in exhaustion, his breath was quick and uneven. San stayed inside him, not wanting to break their connection just yet. He bent down to Wooyoung, pressing his lips on his mouth shortly before he let his head fall onto the pillow, coming down from his high.

He felt Wooyoung’s hands wrap around him, pulling him closer. San could not think, could not speak. Could not grasp what had just happened. All he could hear was Wooyoung’s quiet voice, speaking to him in a tone he had never heard before, almost reminding him of himself.

‘I’m obsessed with you, San.’ Wooyoung whispered, but his voice was firm. He was completely serious. ‘Don’t you ever leave me.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
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> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	26. Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh oh guys??? After this chapter there will only be another one and the epilogue left!  
I can’t believe we’re approaching the end. I bet (and I hope) you’re hyped for the last chapters!><
> 
> I won’t say anything else! Thank you guys for your support, I can’t wait to see what you all think about the ending...!  
Have fun, love you all!
> 
> (Credits to the owner of the pic!♡)

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 25, Wolf**

**제 25 장 , 늑대**

Confident. That was the word that described Seonghwa the best that day. He was confident about suspending the case, that it was the right decision to do. He was confident that Yunho, his partner, the one he hoped he did not have to work on another case with in the future, will not be able to do anything to stop Seonghwa from doing that and above all, Seonghwa was confident he could save San and Wooyoung.

It did not matter if it was the right decision. To Seonghwa, it was. To others it maybe was not, but in the end it all came down to the question of perception. There was no right nor wrong and having spent the night thinking about that and that only, Seonghwa finally started to gain confidence in his decision. He was the boss, he had the last word, and the last word he would speak.

The first thing he intended to do that morning when he got to his office was to meet the higher-ups. His task was simple: Get in. Explain the situation. Provide them with everything they found out about the case (which was practically nothing), admit they were not good enough to solve it (he could live with this lie) and nicely ask them to let him suspend the case, stop the investigation, forget about the boy, about everything. Their response would come as no surprise: They would look at each other, the corners of their mouths dropping as they nod in unison, next thing they would do is permitting Seonghwa to just drop the case, as long as he took care of all the paperwork. They did not care about the case. They did not care about Wooyoung. They will not be any hindrance to Seonghwa. 

He got into his office which was empty, but Seonghwa did not spent too many thoughts on where Yunho could have possibly been if not in the office. Seonghwa did not care, they will not be seeing each other in the future anyway. That morning Seonghwa also did not care about coffee. He had one right after he had woken up and while he already felt the pressing urge to get himself another one, he knew it could wait because before, he had other things to do, way more important things. So he went to his desk and took the case files out of the top drawer while wriggling himself free from his coat and putting it over the back of the chair. Even hanging it up on the hook would take too much time, time that Seonghwa did not really have, even if that meant walking around with a creased coat afterwards. With the case files in his hand, Seonghwa steered into the direction of the door, but before he could put his hands on the handle, it opened and no other than his _beloved partner_ stood in the frame.

Seonghwa was unable to read the expression on his face. Yunho eyed Seonghwa first, then the files in his hands. Then he passed him without saying a thing, he went over to his desk and sat down, hurriedly hitting the keys on his keyboard. Seonghwa did not bother. He set on to leave but stopped as he heard Yunho’s deep voice behind him.

‘You know, I don’t blame you, boss.’

Seonghwa raised his right eyebrow, turning his head to his partner. ‘Pardon?’

Yunho looked up from the computer screen, his expression sharp, Seonghwa did not know what to think of that. He leaned back in his chair, one leg above the other, hands neatly folded in his lap. He looked like a fucking movie villain, Seonghwa hated how he tried to look superior to him even though he was seated and _Christ_, it even worked.

‘I said I don’t blame you.’ He repeated himself, his voice calm, almost a little quiet. ‘For suspending the case, I mean.’

‘Okay?’ Seonghwa retorted. ‘Do you expect me to thank you or something?’

‘No, no. Of course not.’ Yunho shook his head. ‘I just thought that maybe, being a detective doesn’t really suit you.’

Seonghwa frowned, now turning his body to face Yunho. Why the hell was he acting like this? He crossed his arms, tilting his head, almost looking more impatient than he was annoyed because, _hello_, he was fucking busy, he had a case to suspend.

‘Now, what’s that supposed to mean?’ Seonghwa’s voice came out a little more hostile than he intended it to be.

Yunho finally got up from his seat again, letting out a loud fake sigh. He ran his fingers across the surface of his desk as he walked around it, approaching Seonghwa. His eyes went everywhere about the room, looking as though he was deep in thoughts before he looked straight at his boss as he reached him, only a few centimeters of distance between them.

‘Don’t you think you’re kind of not doing your work, boss?’ Yunho tilted his head in the same direction as Seonghwa, almost mockingly. ‘I mean, compassion or not, you shouldn’t hide a criminal just because he’s your friend.’

Seonghwa’s arms dropped to his sides, a heavy gulp followed, he could not help but stutter. ‘W-What?’

‘Choi San,’ Yunho said, tapping his pointer finger against his temple. ‘Does it ring a bell?’

He was _bluffing_. 

‘Man, I should’ve known, boss. It’s my fault, really.’ Yunho said, a scornful smile followed. One could practically smell the sarcasm in the air. ‘But I really didn’t think that you, the lone wolf, was capable of feeling enough compassion to actually go as far as to hide a fucking criminal.’

‘Shut up!’ Seonghwa hissed. ‘San’s not a criminal.’

Yunho nodded. ‘Sure, tell that to yourself if it makes you feel better.’

Seonghwa growled, quickly shutting the door behind him. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Yunho laughed at Seonghwa, but he was not amused at all. ‘Shit, don’t play dumb with me, Detective. You know exactly what I’m talking about. But it’s fine, I’m okay with explaining it to freshen up your mind, hm.’

Yunho sat down at the edge of his table like a teacher who was about to tell his students a story no one actually cared about. One difference though: Seonghwa did care about what he had to say. ‘While you were busy doing _whatever_, I actually sat down and did my job. We got a call yesterday. A woman from a bakery told us that Wooyoung used to be a regular. He’d always buy the same lemon raspberry cake, one of their specialties. Shortly after Wooyoung went missing, someone came in and bought the same cake. She didn’t think anything of it because surely, other people liked the cake as well. But after she saw the CCTV photo we spread, she remembered that the person who bought the delicious lemon raspberry cake a few weeks ago actually looked awfully similar to the suspect in the photo. She called, not thinking much of it. Turns out it was, _in fact_, your precious friend San. The lady confirmed it.’

‘So San bought a stupid cake, that doesn’t mean anything.’ Seonghwa quickly retorted. ‘Do you even realize how many people buy that cake?’

‘Sure, sure. That’s what I thought, too. But then I remembered something. I remembered how there was a photo of Wooyoung on San’s computer, a photo no one has ever seen before. I remembered San being into photography, I remembered how he was hesitant to let us into his apartment and I remember wondering about the two toothbrushes in his bathroom. Of course, this doesn’t mean a thing. The same hair color and clothes, it could all be an unfortunate coincidence.’ Yunho paused for a second, making it awfully dramatic, and bit his lips. ‘But then you, who was so relieved to have finally found a clue that night with the CCTV footage, you, who has a backstory with San, suddenly changed your mind after being absent for two days, telling me you want to suspend the case. And Hongjoong stopped reporting about it too! This, boss, is a little too much to be a coincidence.’

‘This still proves nothing, Yunho.’

Seonghwa was not sure whether he was angry, scared, panicked, or calm, because technically Yunho’s theory was not confirmed yet. Sure, now that Seonghwa was thinking about it, everything that Yunho had listed did make sense. But it made sense to Seonghwa, to Yunho. Maybe to Hongjoong, too. But to no-one else. He had to deescalate the situation before Yunho (or Seonghwa) acted impulsively.

‘Just tell me why.’ Yunho got up from his table, walking up to Seonghwa again. He made Seonghwa back up until his body was pressed against the steel cabinet right next to the door. ‘Why the hell would you cover for a fucking criminal? Do you know what he did to Wooyoung? Is he even alive? You know that doesn’t make you any better than the actual freaking criminal. So why, make me _fucking_ understand _why_ you would do such thing?’

Seonghwa gulped, his shoulders dropped, his eyes avoiding Yunho’s. ‘Love.’

A pause.

‘Excuse me?’ Yunho blinked.

‘It’s love. They’re in love, Yunho. They’re just two teenagers in love, two boys wanting to be free together. There’s no stalking, there’s no hurting, no kidnapping. It’s a big misunderstanding.’ Seonghwa grabbed both of Yunho’s upper arms. ‘They ran away because they wanted to be together. It’s no crime, unless you say loving someone you’re apparently not supposed to love is a crime. They’re happy together so please, Yunho, I’m asking you not as your boss but as someone equal to you, please just leave them alone.’

The room plunged into silence, both kept staring at each other. Seonghwa was not sure if he should keep defending them or keep his mouth shut. Before he could decide, Yunho shook his head.

‘You’re telling me he wasn’t kidnapped but decided to throw his great life away because of San? Detective, you must be kidding me. All love aside, but this sounds like a fucking Hollywood movie, don’t you think? From what I know about Wooyoung, he doesn’t exactly sound like someone who cares a lot about others. Maybe you should’ve become a screen writer instead.’ Yunho said, tugging at his arms but Seonghwa would not let go.

‘Yunho, please. I’m begging you. Do you really think I wouldn’t have arrested San if I knew he was hurting Wooyoung, if I knew he was dangerous? But I saw it with both of my eyes! You have to believe me, Yunho! They...they kissed, you know.’ Seonghwa’s despair grew bigger. If he did not convince Yunho now, it would be the end for San and Wooyoung. And for Seonghwa.

‘They kissed?’ Yunho’s face relaxed, a glimpse of hope at the end of the tunnel. Seonghwa nodded furiously.

‘They kissed, and laughed, and smiled. They were happy, I could see it!’ Seonghwa made big gestures with his hands, not even knowing what they were supposed to signify. He smiled at Yunho desperately, letting his arms down again. He begged to all the gods out there to please, _please_ make Yunho understand. He knew, deep down, Yunho was a good guy. He was, and Seonghwa also understood that he just wanted to do his job, especially because this was his first case, but this was not right. What would happen to the two if someone parted them? Wooyoung would have to go back to his parents who seemed a lot happier without than with him, and San, poor San, would lose another person in his life. He did not deserve that. Why, when he finally was happy again for the first time in years did someone try to ruin everything for him again? It was not fair, it was cruel, and Seonghwa feared that should this really happen, San was going to collapse like a house of cards, that vulnerable house that Wooyoung helped transform into a mighty castle. With his eyes pinned at Yunho, Seonghwa was anticipating a response.

‘I...’ Yunho whispered, the anticipation inside of Seonghwa at the brim of exploding, eyes fixed at Yunho. ‘I think you’ve gone insane.’

Seonghwa’s heart dropped, an awfully familiar clicking sound followed, something cold touched his wrist. Seonghwa’s shocked eyes looked down at himself, just to see what he had feared was true: Yunho had cuffed him to the handle of one of the drawers.

‘Yunho.’ Seonghwa’s voice was shaky from trying to contain the sudden rush of anger. His breathing was heaving, his head shot up. ‘Open the fucking handcuffs.’

‘Sorry, Detective.’ Yunho said, slowly backing away from Seonghwa like he was a wild animal about to lose its temper. ‘But you cannot stop me.’

Yunho turned to his desk to grab all his stuff and his jacket, Seonghwa widened his eyes. ‘Wait, wait, what’re you doing?!’

‘You were right. I still don’t have enough proofs.’ Yunho looked at him. ‘So I’m going to find proofs and arrest a criminal.’

‘No, Yunho, listen to me!’ Seonghwa urged him, he quickly grabbed his sleeve as Yunho tried to disappear through the door. Their eyes met. ‘Yunho, you have to believe me. You’re going to ruin everything, you’re about to make a big mistake, believe me. Don’t do it for me, do it for them. Don’t you believe in love?’

Again, that scornful laughter. ‘Love? You must be kidding me.’

Yunho pulled his arm away aggressively, getting rid of Seonghwa’s desperate grip before he went through the door and vanished, leaving Seonghwa cuffed to a fucking cabinet.

‘Fuck, _shit_.’ He hissed, tugging at his wrist without any sign of success, obviously. His heart was racing, he had to do something, he had to stop Yunho before he could ruin everything. ‘Breathe, Seonghwa, breathe and think.’

He tried to calm himself down, he closed his eyes for a second. Then he remembered. There was one last chance. Seonghwa took out his phone with his free hand, he opened his contacts, then pressed on call. He heard the phone dialing as he held it to his ear, begging for the call to go through. The dialing noise stopped.

_ ‘Kim Hongjoong?’ _

*

He was smiling at San. San was smiling back. Both of them giggled. God, Wooyoung did not even bother how cheesy they were, looking like newlyweds after having spent their first night together on their honeymoon. It did kind of feel that way, though. At least Wooyoung imagined this was how it must feel. And surprisingly enough, Wooyoung did not feel embarrassed at all. Why would he? It had been great. In fact, if he could, he would just grab San’s wrist and pull him straight back to the living room. Or, fuck it, the kitchen was fine too. What exactly kept Wooyoung from going after his wants? Well, an empty stomach and exhaustion. It was fine, no rush, they had all the time in the world. They could do it as often as they wanted, wherever they wanted. Wooyoung felt great and he knew that San was feeling the same. He had not stopped smiling ever since they had left the living room together, hand in hand like a fucking cliché. Seeing San smile like that made Wooyoung even happier that he already was. Was that possible? God, he did not know, he did not care. San, San, San. That was all he cared about. Looking at San, seeing his smile, touching San, feeling San, kissing him, doing more than that, San here, San there. He was everywhere and Wooyoung loved it. He loved, _loved_, loved it.

Looking back at how Wooyoung had felt when he first came here, he would have never guessed this would happen. Becoming obsessed with the man that was obsessed with him. Sounded like a fucking joke, but it was oddly true. In the end, Wooyoung realized that running away from home was the best thing he could have done. He had not spent a single thought on his parents in days, there was no guilt, no hard feelings regarding Yeosang. Fuck, he would even greet Mingi if he saw him on the streets some day. Nothing bothered Wooyoung, nothing. Because everything he needed was right in front of him, currently shoving bread into his mouth.

Then, San’s phone rang.

San took it, swallowing the piece of bread. ‘It’s Hongjoong.’

‘I swear to God,’ Wooyoung furrowed. ‘If he makes you go to work today I’ll lose it.’

San just smiled and shook his head as he accepted the call and held the phone to his ear, greeting his hyung. Even _if_ Hongjoong asked him, no, ordered him to come to work, San would not go. That was what his little nod meant, Wooyoung knew it, and it made him grin.

‘Yeah, he’s here too.’ San said, talking to Hongjoong. Wooyoung did not understand what he was saying, all he could hear was mumbling and gibberish. ‘Okay.’

San put the phone onto the table, putting it on speaker. No greetings to Wooyoung, nothing, Hongjoong just started talking and Wooyoung would have taken offense if what Hongjoong was saying had not been so utterly horrific.

‘You guys have to listen to me now. They know, police knows and they’re on their way to you guys as I speak. I don’t care how you guys do it, where you’re going or whatever, don’t even tell me. You just have to get the hell out of there. Now.’

Wooyoung blinked. San’s eyes were empty, they were too afraid to look at each other.

‘Hyung...you shouldn’t be joking about this.’ San said carefully, even though Wooyoung knew he wished, fucking wished for it to be a morbid joke.

‘There’s no time for joking around. I just got a call from Detective Park. Weirdly enough, he is on your guys’ side, but his partner is on his way to your apartment with the intent to arrest San. I’m on my way too, I’m trying to buy some time but you have to leave the apartment in 20 minutes at best and...just get the hell out of here. As far as you guys can. Don’t...don’t let them fucking catch you.’ A short pause. ‘Be happy.’

The call ended. Wooyoung’s mind was blank, he was not sure what he was feeling, if he was feeling anything. He was not processing what was going on. Was it a dream? Was it still a joke? It could not possibly be true that they were making love just twenty minutes ago and now...now someone was out to get them. Someone was trying to separate them. _Again_, someone was trying to make Wooyoung go home. To make San go to prison. The room was shaking, no, no it was not the room, it was Wooyoung’s body. His whole body was trembling like a fucking earthquake, making him nauseous and he wanted to vomit so bad. He felt his breakfast crawl up his throat again, he _literally_ felt it, and it choked him, cut off the air. He was suffocating, _someone_ was suffocating him, had their hands wrapped around his neck so tightly he felt his head turn different shades of purple and blue. 

Wooyoung had to stand up from the chair, he was panting for air like a fucking maniac. He shook his head, slowly at first but then more aggressively. ‘No. No, San. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking true. This—They can’t part us. That...fuck, San, help me, please.’

Tears filled his eyes, burning hot tears. This could not be true. How was this possible? How could his perfect world be turned upside down in an instant like it was nothing?

‘Wooyoung.’

San’s _fucking_ voice was _fucking_ calm how the _fuck_ did he stay so _fucking_ calm, _fuck_. He did not listen to his voice. Instead, Wooyoung burst into hysterics. ‘That’s so fucking funny. They can’t fucking let us live, can they? They say police helps the people but all they do is fucking ruin their lives.’

‘Wooyoung, breathe. We have to think of something.’ San now stood up too, slowly walking around the table. ‘We have to stay calm and come up with a plan.’

Fuck a plan, fuck staying calm. Fuck breathing.

Wooyoung felt San’s soft touch on his arm, but it did not help, not at all, sadly.

‘A plan? I’ll tell you what we’ll do.’ Wooyoung passed his lover, walking up to the kitchen cabinet with the cutlery, pulling out the biggest knife he could find with his tear-flooded eyes. He turned to San again, holding it up, ready to use it. ‘We’ll just stab them. I don’t care, I bet we can do this. How many do you think will come? Two? Five? _Ten?_ They wouldn’t possible send ten. We can do this, San. Believe me.’

‘Wooyoung...you make yourself look like a serial killer. This is not the solution. Listen to me, put the knife down and we will come up with something else, with a plan that won’t physically hurt anyone.’

‘Why.’ Wooyoung did not really expect an answer from him. ‘It’s either us or them.’

Wooyoung blinked his tears away, trying to look tough even though he knew he looked like a fucking mess, weaker than ever. San stood a meter away from him next to the table. He looked hurt but Wooyoung did not know if it was because of the police or because...because of Wooyoung?

‘San you...’ Wooyoung’s voice got quiet. ‘You’re not thinking about leaving me, right?’

Silence. All efforts were useless, silent tears started rolling down Wooyoung’s reddened cheeks as he still got no answer from San. Silence was answer enough, Wooyoung felt like he just got stabbed with the very knife he was holding in his hands.

‘You—’ Wooyoung’s voice was nothing but a whimper. ‘You want to leave me!’

His legs got weak, Wooyoung let his body drop onto his knees in defeat, like a fallen soldier. What a fool he was, such a fool. How could this happen? How could this happen to him? His grip around the knife was still firm, his forehead pressed against the cold tiles. He cried like a fucking baby, sobbing and grunting, tears and snot wetting the floor.

‘Why?’ Wooyoung cried, now demanding an answer. ‘Why, San?’

Why did San want to leave him? Why? Was it not _him_ who did not want to give Wooyoung away anymore? Was it not San who wanted to keep Wooyoung by his side at all costs? So why was it Wooyoung who was crying on the floor, begging San not to leave him because it would kill him, yes, it would fucking kill him. And then it hit Wooyoung, he remembered what San had asked him some time ago. He had asked him about what kind of ending his story of _The boy who cried wolf_ would have and now, while Wooyoung was lying huddled on the floor, crying for his wolf, he realized that all along it was him. 

He was the wolf.

He was the wolf who was running after the little shepherd boy who did nothing but try to live his life, be happy and have fun. Wooyoung was the wolf, the stalker, the criminal, the obsessed one. And he accepted it. Wooyoung accepted all of that, accepted that he was the maniac, the one who had lost his mind, it was okay. But it was only okay if he had San and if he did not, he might as well die. 

His grip around the knife tightened, he turned it in his hand, the blade facing him.

And then there was San’s warm hand on his head, gently rubbing it. Wooyoung stopped in motion, his hand still trembling. ‘I don’t want to leave you, Wooyoung.’

He blinked, the tears stopped, a dry cough. He dared to lift his head a little just to look into San’s eyes and, _oh_, they were shimmering. San was kneeling in front of him, his hand now on Wooyoung’s cheek as he managed to sit up again. He let San take the knife out of his hand, it slipped across the floor and out of his reach. A little smile, a confident smile on San’s lips that Wooyoung did not understand. 

San came closer, putting his lips on Wooyoung’s swollen mouth. A sweet kiss. A sad kiss. It was a kiss Wooyoung had never seen in any movie before, a kiss that was only something he and San could feel, could understand. His sobbing stopped as he leaned into the kiss, the macabre thought of this maybe being their last one pushed aside. Wooyoung just wanted San, he needed San. He would do anything to be with him. Anything.

San pulled away, letting Wooyoung wince. He still kept his face close to Wooyoung’s, looking into his eyes, eyes that were speaking to Wooyoung, just what was he thinking? There still was this little smile, mixed with sadness but even...even with a little hope.

‘Do you trust me, Wooyoung?’ Heavy nodding. ‘Then listen carefully.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	27. Deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woooow, I’m back after two full weeks!! I gotta admit, I wasn’t feeling great to the point where I was unable to write. But! I’m back again, I’m feeling great, and while I’m not 100% happy about this chapter even though I wrote it like 3 times, I still hope you guys will like it.
> 
> Next week I’ll be back for the last time for this story with the epilogue, and I can’t deny but say that I feel a little sad about that.
> 
> I hope you guys are all safe and well, hang in there, don’t let anyone take you down and stay strong!  
Thank you all for your support ♡
> 
> Credits to the owner of the pic!

** THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS **

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

** **

**Chapter 26, deceit**

**제 26 장 , 기만**

Love? _Love?_ Yunho would laugh but he was not amused at all, did not find it funny enough to even crook a smile. He found it rather pathetic, how Seonghwa talked about Wooyoung like he knew him. Yunho did not claim that he knew him better, he really did not, but they could not just assume things. They could not just pretend that he was safe and San was not dangerous at all just because they wished for it to be like that. _Love,_ Seonghwa had called it. By all means, Yunho wished for nothing else than for Wooyoung to be happy and safe, but him being in love with San? It sounded too good to be true, even if Yunho had suspected Wooyoung to like boys. 

He just wondered what it was. What made Seonghwa lie? Out of all people in their division, Seonghwa seemed like the last person who would protect a criminal. Was he that concerned for San? But still, it was not right to conceal his crimes. Sure, San had been through a lot in his life as well, he had been through things that he certainly did not deserve. But abuse, witnessing family members die and being left alone did things to you. It messed with you, messed with your mind and sanity. It was almost impossible to lead a normal life after those things happened to you so _of course._ Of course sooner or later San would snap. But that did not justify it, did not make it okay, though. And it was Yunho’s and also Seonghwa’s job to prevent people from snapping, pro prevent bad things from happening and to make sure that everyone was safe. That was why they did their job. So why, why did Seonghwa cover for San? As much as Yunho wanted to know, he could not figure it out. Nonetheless, it did not change his mind, did not stop him from pursuing his plan: To bring Wooyoung home. Safe.

Yunho left the police department together with a new pair of handcuffs and three other officers. They took two cars and with their sirens on headed for San’s apartment. A lot of things were going through his head while they were on their way, his partner behind the wheel and him in the passenger seat, shifting nervously in it. Some thoughts, some of the voices in his head, were louder than others. Some urged him to go faster, that very soon the case would be over and Wooyoung would be home again. Those were the loud voices, they were basically screaming at him, were louder than the sirens. But the quieter ones, the ones he had chosen to ignore but which were definitely present, asked him whether he was sure about what he was doing. They asked him why he did not just believe Seonghwa, why he doubted him when he had far more experience. And he thought about how he had cuffed his boss to a cabinet. But those thoughts were very small, very silent, but still difficult to get rid off. The sirens helped him drown them out, helped him focus on his mission, even though it all felt surreal to him. He had no time to think. There was just time for acting.

As the minutes passed, Yunho’s nervousness grew, the beating of his heart got quicker and San’s apartment drew closer. He could detect the building at the end of the street and pointing at it, he directed the driver towards it. They turned off their sirens before reaching the building and Yunho told the other officer to just stop in the middle of the parking lot. He got out of the car, looked up the building. He shuddered. He had felt weird the first time they had come here, but now he was feeling even more uncomfortable. It was almost a little uncanny. He waited for the other officers to get out of their cars. _Breathe in. Breathe out._ He nodded at the others and set off, when a loud voice pierced through his ears. It was a familiar voice, a voice he did not want to hear right now and _what the fuck_ was he doing here?

‘Detective!’ Hongjoong jumped out of his car, almost tripped, and approached Yunho. He was breathless, sweat stuck to his forehead and he tried to conceal his nervousness by smiling at Yunho, but his smile was panicked. ‘What’re you doing here?’

Oh, _please._ Yunho only barely managed to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. As if he did not know why he was here. Hongjoong freaking knew, and he knew just as much as Seonghwa, maybe even more, and Yunho could arrest him for that. Withholding crucial information, helping out a criminal. And Hongjoong coincidentally showing up was probably Seonghwa’s doing, who was probably out of his cuffs again, already on his way here. 

‘I’ve got no time to talk.’ Yunho said, pushing Hongjoong out of the way firmly, but not aggressively. He made an attempt to pass him, determined to get into San’s apartment, but Hongjoong quickly managed to block his path again, eliciting an annoyed sigh from the detective. Hongjoong giggled nervously, a desperate smile followed, a smile that was looking for excuses, for something or someone that could help him out.

‘Listen, uhm.’ Hongjoong stammered. ‘I’ve been wanting to ask you about the case, ya know? How’s it going? I saw the CCTV photo.’

God, who was he trying to fool?

‘Yeah, I’ll tell you about it later. Now move aside, please.’ _Before I make you move aside,_ he wanted to add but chose not to. It was hard for him to stay calm, he could not lose crucial time. But before he could move on, Hongjoong grabbed his jacket, holding him in place. His eyes wide, expression panicked. He saw Hongjoong’s brain working, probably thinking about what he could do, what he should say and how he could keep Yunho from entering the building.

‘Seems like you got a good lead?’ He then said quickly. ‘Mind telling me?’

‘Hongjoong.’ Yunho almost interrupted him, while also trying to brush off his hands. 

‘No, really. I’d love to know. It’s important. Actually, you could tell me at my office. We could—’

‘Hongjoong!’ Now he did cut him off, his next words almost sounded like a threat. ‘Let-me-go.’

‘No, just—wait a second!’ Hongjoong grabbed Yunho’s jacket more tightly and dug his fingers in the fabric, Yunho almost started to fear for the life of his jacket. He wrapped his hands around Hongjoong’s, ripping them away from the fabric.

‘The way you behave makes me believe you want to prevent me from going upstairs. Is there something I shouldn’t see?’ Yunho crossed his arms, eyeing Hongjoong tentatively, not even the slightest twitch of his eyebrows was left unnoticed. 

‘No.’ Hongjoong said. ‘Of course not. I was just...curious, you know.’ Hongjoong retorted, voice rather quiet.

‘Great.’ Yunho pushed him to the side, this time Hongjoong did not fight back. ‘Then I’ll go upstairs now.’

Yunho glanced at the building and steered towards it, walking up the stairs. He walked down the narrow corridor, behind him he could hear quick footsteps that belonged to the officers and probably Hongjoong. But standing in front of the apartment, Yunho frowned in confusion. He thought he remembered which apartment belonged San, it was apartment 303, no doubt.

Yunho turned to the other officers, he could detect Hongjoong’s red hair peek out from behind.

‘Mr Kim?’ Yunho didn’t wait for a response. ‘This...is Choi San’s apartment, right? 303?’

Hongjoong emerged from between the other officers, confirming that the apartment was the correct one. But when he looked at the door, he tilted his head in confusion, almost as though he started doubting his answer. A tiny sign was stuck to the apartment door, a sign that had not been there before, a sign that said _for rent_ in a big black font. How was that possible? Yunho’s eyes wandered off to Hongjoong, eyeing him suspiciously. He had expected for Hongjoong to be aware of the sign as he was clearly filled in on the situation around San and Wooyoung, but the surprise in his eyes seemed genuine. 

‘But Detective.’ Hongjoong finally managed to get his eyes off the sign. ‘Are you here for San?’

Yunho bit his lips hard, an iron-like taste of blood on his tongue. ‘Of course I’m here for him, and you know exactly why. So tell me where he is.’

He was furious. He felt like he was in a damn movie, and everyone except him knew the script for it. This was a fucking game and he could not believe it was actually happening to him, on his first case at that. Hongjoong was staring at the door, then he looked back at Yunho. He stammered. ‘I—I’m not sure, Detective. I didn’t...know he moved. He didn’t even mention it. I’m sure he’s not far. I mean, he still has to come to work, you know?’

Yunho massaged his face with his hands, thinking about his next move. Maybe he could take a look at Hongjoong’s office? But then he would not have suggested to go there. He was not sure if he could believe Hongjoong, but even if he knew where San was, Yunho was sure he would not spill the beans. It was no use pressuring him. 

‘Detective.’ Hongjoong then said. ‘Why are you here without Detective Park, anyway?’

‘He’s otherwise busy.’ Yunho quickly retorted, maybe too quickly. Yunho felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, the familiar sound of his ring tone pierced through his ear. He took it out and looking at the display, he scoffed. ‘Speak of the devil.’

Yunho accepted the call, not even saying something like _hello_ or _sorry for the cuffs._ He just waited for Seonghwa to speak first.

‘Get your car and come to the Jung’s.’

Yunho frowned. ‘Why?’

‘He’s home.’ Seonghwa said. ‘His parents just called us, Wooyoung has come home.’

A loud buzzing noise in his ears, Yunho was not sure if he had understood him correctly. ‘Pardon?’

‘You understood me. Now quit playing the hero and get to their home. I’m on my way too.’

Silence, the call ended. Yunho remained with the phone on his ear, shocked. Wait...what? He did not understand. Did he just say that Wooyoung had returned home? To his parents? That did not feel right. Had Wooyoung managed to escape from San? _Okay, Yunho, breathe, breathe._ Whatever it was that was going on, Yunho was sure he could find it out once he talked to Wooyoung. All he had to do was get there before his boss could.

He let the phone disappear into his pocket again, and steering past Hongjoong and the other officers, he walked down the stairs towards the car. He did not even wait for anyone else, did not wait for another colleague to sit beside him or drive. He was not sure if he was capable of driving, capable of focusing on the streets, but he did not even think about it and started making his way for Wooyoung’s home.

What if he was hurt? At least it seemed like he had still managed to walk all the way from San’s apartment to his home. But what had happened? Did Hongjoong or Seonghwa warn San, so he attempted to run away, but Wooyoung had managed to escape from him? Or...did San let him go? Yunho was not sure, but every possibility went through his head, every single scenario he played out but he feared that in the end, it would still come differently, because it was always like that. No matter how thoroughly you planned something out, it would eventually end differently. That was life. 

Yunho was sweating, was nervous. It did not really make sense how San had managed to run away from home so quickly. But of course, someone must’ve warned him. He felt like he was going against a whole bunch of criminals, with San, Hongjoong and Seonghwa being in cahoots together. Who knew, maybe there were even more people who knew about this whole situation that Yunho did not know of. He had never imagined for his work to be like this, especially not on his first case. Yunho did not even know if he liked it. 

Yunho arrived at Wooyoung’s home, but to his disappointment, he saw another police car already parked at the side of the street. Yunho muttered to himself before he got out of the car, walking up to the porch and ringing the bell. It did not take long until the door was answered, Wooyoung’s father—again with a phone between his shoulder and ear—stood in the frame. He just sighed and moved to the side to let Yunho in, though he did not say anything, did not even greet him. Yunho managed to take a quick look at his face, but he was not sure if he could read it. Was it anger? Sadness? Frustration? Why was he not happy that his son, his only son, had returned? Yunho decided that that was not what was important right now. It was Wooyoung. So he went inside and made his way to the living room. First he saw Seonghwa, he was seated on the couch, behind him stood another officer. He looked up, caught eyes with Yunho, but even though he knew he was angry at him for cuffing him, he just looked away and down at his lap where he was writing something down on a little notepad. Upon entering the living room completely, Yunho also detected the mother, she sat opposite to Seonghwa on another couch, they were separated by an expensive glass table, and next to her, hidden by her frame, there was another person. The mother looked up, her head in her hand, eyes dry and clearly no tear in sight, she looked annoyed, and then she leaned back, crossing her arms and giving Yunho clear sight of him. Finally. 

His hair was black, not like he had expected, his expression empty, eyes hollow. Yunho’s mouth stood open as he walked over to him. There he was, sitting on the couch and avoiding everyone’s glance, his shoulders hunched to make himself appear even smaller, maybe he even wished for himself to disappear entirely. Seeing the boy they had been looking for the past weeks in front of him like that almost felt surreal. No, it did feel like a dream. Like an illusion or a mirage. At first sight, he seemed okay. No blood dripping from his head, no burst lips. 

‘Are you...’ Yunho gulped, he felt a little giddy. ‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

Wooyoung looked up for a split second, then he glanced down at his hands again, playing with the skin around his fingernails. ‘I’m fine.’

Fine. He was fine. He just said he was fine. Yunho turned to Seonghwa who was looking straight back at him, back leaned against the sofa, one leg above the other. God, he looked scary and angry. If they had been alone, Seonghwa would have probably slapped Yunho across the room for handcuffing his senior. But did that matter now? All that mattered was finding out what the hell had happened.

‘Can you tell me what happened, Wooyoung?’ Yunho asked, but said person did not answer.

‘Wooyoung had run away from home because he felt neglected.’ Seonghwa said and Yunho blinked. He just wanted to say something, but his boss continued. ‘The story about the stalker was a lie so his parents would care about him, but they didn’t so he ran away. He chose to come home because he had run out of money.’

‘What...but—’ Yunho gulped. That...could not be true. What about the CCTV? What about all the evidence that they had? Yunho glanced at Seonghwa. What...if Seonghwa was behind all this? What if he had coerced Wooyoung into saying this so San would not get caught? Yunho turned back to Wooyoung. ‘And where, if I may ask, did you stay the whole time?’

‘First he spent some nights at a sauna until he found a cheap goshiwon not far from here.’ Seonghwa answered. Yunho was boiling. No. That was not true.

‘Hey.’ Yunho said. ‘I think Wooyoung can answer for himself.’

Yunho glared at Seonghwa furiously, but he just sighed. The younger detective looked back to the boy, and now crouching in front of him, he took one of his hands. He did seemed fine so far, he really did. No bruises, nothing. But that did not have to mean anything.

‘Wooyoung, hey. Tell the truth. Where is he, hm? You can tell me, you don’t have to be scared. Where’s San?’

He heard something move behind him, Seonghwa had probably sat up. The mother was looking the other direction, clearly not interested in what had happened to her son, not interested in the fact that he had come back after they had been looking for him, their only son, the son she had so beautifully cried for in her public appeal. Okay, maybe Wooyoung did run away from home because he felt neglected, but San could have still picked him up—kidnapped him after that. 

‘Wooyoung?’ Yunho said again, trying to catch his attention. The boy looked up, finally, and Yunho could not help but get goosebumps from the expression on his face. What was it with this family that they were all so hard to read? Yunho sensed distrust, maybe even disgust in his eyes, and he wondered why. He was here to help him, or was it because of the things that San had done to him? Or was it because Seonghwa had intimidated him?

‘I’m sorry.’ He then finally said. ‘Who?’

Yunho blinked. ‘San. Choi San. The man who kidnapped you, who held you hostage!’

Yunho felt a hand on his shoulder. Seonghwa. ‘Detective Jeong. Please.’

‘No!’ Yunho did not even attempt to look at his boss, he just shook off his hand. His eyes were still fixed on Wooyoung who was again looking down at his hands. ‘Wooyoung, hey. You can look at me.’

The boy looked up. His eyes suddenly seemed a little reddened, as though tears were fighting their way to the surface. See? That did not seem like nothing to Yunho. He was hiding something, he could sense it.

‘I don’t know anyone by that name.’ Wooyoung retorted, drawing back his hand. Yunho saw him gulp. ‘As I already told the other detective...I lied. I was angry at my parents and friends for not paying enough attention to me. And look—’ he motioned to his mother, ‘they don’t even care now after they believed I had been kidnapped. If I hadn’t run out of money, I wouldn’t have come back home because clearly, no one cares.’

No. Liar.

His mother just shook her head and stood up, Yunho was not sure if she was angry with Wooyoung or if she had to make some business calls. But now that she was gone, Yunho could not give up.

‘Wooyoung. I have evidence that someone by the name of Choi San kept you at his home.’ Yunho said, almost getting a little impatient here.

‘Jeong.’ Seonghwa’s voice pierced through his hears. ‘He told you he doesn’t know him.’

Excuse me? ‘Uhm, detective, I thought you had seen both of them? What happened to that? What did you say? That it was...what were your words...ah, right, love? That it was love?’

Wooyoung’s eyes widened a little. He looked at Seonghwa. ‘Well, I thought so, too. But it seems like I was mistaken.’

Oh, come on—

‘Can you...show me a picture maybe?’ Wooyoung then asked. Yunho quickly nodded, took out his phone and chose the last picture he had added to his photo gallery. A picture of San. He showed it to Wooyoung whose eyebrows immediately shot up. ‘Oh! I actually do know him. I met him a few days ago in a café.’

‘Excuse me?’ Yunho asked, but Wooyoung just nodded.

‘He saw me looking through apartments available for rent and gave me an address where I could look for one. He said he lived there, but he would soon move out. He said the prices were fairly cheap. I didn’t get a chance to take a look at it because, again, I had run out of money.’

‘Why did you look for an apartment then?’ Seonghwa asked. Yunho was breathing heavily.

‘Well, I don’t actually plan on staying here.’ He said. ‘I’m old enough to move out now. I just...have to find a way to get some money.’ 

But...that was not true. Wooyoung was lying, right in this moment. Why would he lie, though? Yunho glanced at his boss, then back at Wooyoung. Well, unless Wooyoung was involved in this conspiracy as well. San and Wooyoung, Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Just what the hell was going on?

‘Don’t you think you should live here as long as you can? It’s a beautiful house, you don’t have to worry about food or water.’ Seonghwa said and Yunho could not believe he was actually pretending to believe the lies Wooyoung was telling them. 

‘I don’t actually care much about the house.’ Wooyoung said. ‘I just don’t want to be around people who don’t care about me anyway.’

His glance was back down at his hands, he bit his lips.

‘There are some things that need to be taken care of now that you’re home again. You should also go back to school, it’s not long until your graduation and I’m sure you don’t wanna miss it. I don’t believe that you’re facing any charges, but still, it was dumb to just run away, especially because everyone believed you’ve been kidnapped.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

Seonghwa nodded. ‘That’s all I wanted to hear.’

Well, but it was not close to what Yunho wanted to hear. He was not sure what to believe anymore. He could have just believed Wooyoung, no doubt, if Seonghwa had not made such a big fuss out of arresting San. There was something both of them knew that Yunho did not, and he could not describe how he felt. In the end, he believed that it was the house that made people’s faces unreadable, that blurred your emotions, because when they left again, even if this was against Yunho’s will, he saw Wooyoung smile when he closed the door. And the smile was meant neither for Seonghwa, nor for Yunho, but it was a triumphant smile, a smile full of deceit. And as soon as Yunho stepped away from the porch, got away from the house, he knew what he was feeling again. And he felt defeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve made it through the chapter!! I hope ur tuned for the next one c: enjoy  
Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, I love you all!  

> 
> Your PoeticMilk
> 
> Follow me on Twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) for more updates!  
Or ask me something on CuriousCat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk))
> 
> If you haven’t seen the trailer for this fic yet, you can watch it here: [Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YSQjSqIqvI)  
You can go and listen to the ‘official’ playlist [here ♡ ](https://open.spotify.com/user/mz3dajvl4lscx2t2qvfi6q3zw/playlist/4ImNWVlxxxRQlbWY9ih9wN?si=ucd4zg6jRN-ZXDBuA4dMoQ) :)  



	28. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Epilogue and the very last chapter of The Boy Who Cried Wolf.  
I hope you have fun, and if you wanna hear my thoughts, my cheesy emotions at the end of it, you are invited to read the end notes!
> 
> If not, thank you for reading ♡ And I love y’all!

**THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF: CHRYSALIS**

**양치기 소년: 번데기**

**EPILOGUE: THE END**

_February, 2020_

It was not easy, actually. For the first time in his life it had been hard for Wooyoung to lie, to keep up a lie, and while that was difficult on its own, he also had to keep up a fake smile as soon as he stepped out of his house. When he was home, he did not bother keeping it up. No one saw him anyway, his parents did not care, nothing had changed at home, but everything was different.

‘Are you going to be alright?’ Wooyoung had never thought to be hearing this voice ever again, let alone in such a cheerful tone. 

‘Hey, I’ll be just fine. My parents aren’t home anyway. It’s not like they’re taking time off work just because I graduated school.’

He received a pitiful smile, but for the first time he did not appreciate it, even though he knew it was just because he was genuinely worried about Wooyoung. Usually, being pitied and having other people worry about him was all he ever wished for, but he had changed so much, _San_ had changed him so much, and it was hard to decide whether it was in a good or bad way. Wooyoung was not craving anyone’s attention anymore, did not care about his parents ignoring him completely, _even when_ they were home. But there was this hole, this emptiness in his heart and it wanted to be filled, but the only one who could fix him was San. And San was not here. Ever since that day, ever since he had returned home, the feeling of happiness had completely vanished, like he had forgotten how it felt. He wondered every day if San was feeling the same. Heck, he wondered if he was even okay.

‘You know you can come over whenever you want.’ Yeosang’s voice sounded cheerful, he boxed Wooyoung’s shoulder ever so slightly. ‘You don’t even have to text me beforehand. You can always have my bed.’

Wooyoung just nodded, looking for the keys. He did not manage to say thank you.

‘I’m here too, you know.’

He did not hate him. Wooyoung did not hate Mingi. He was the one who had made sure Yeosang kept his sanity, and Wooyoung was grateful for that, he really was, but if he could replace him with San, he would. Mingi did not hold any kind of grudge against Wooyoung, which he found surprising. He had tried just as much as Yeosang to integrate Wooyoung back into the school and the people, even though Wooyoung said they did not need to. He did not care about what others said about him, did not care about the whispers, and he did not mind being alone if it was not San who was with him. Still, he did not expect for Mingi to even talk to him again, so he had started to respect him a little. The fact that he also got hired by Hongjoong for his photography skills surely was not surprising, but whenever Mingi was talking about him, Wooyoung had a hard time swallowing. As much as he desired to see the little strawberry head again, Wooyoung could not get himself to do it. It was still risky, because being seen with him meant Wooyoung must have known San, which _he did not._ That’s what he had told the police. Mingi once talked about San indirectly, said that the person working for Mr Kim had suddenly quit, so he was looking for someone else and it just happened to be Mingi. Wooyoung was not mad about it, he just wondered if Hongjoong was doing alright, wondered if he had ever spoken to San again. At least his new story had become a real success, they were apparently moving offices, and Wooyoung was happy for him. 

But again, Wooyoung’s response was nothing but a thankful nod. He had found his keys eventually. The door flung open, he turned around to look at them, Wooyoung still avoided the term _friend_. It was not because he still held a grudge against them, that would not be fair, but it would also not be fair to call them his friends after what he was about to do. After all, it was Yeosang (with Mingi in tow) who had approached Wooyoung first after he had come back to school. It had been hard on him with all the school work he had to catch up on while being bombarded with all the questions about whether he had really been kidnapped, and the exclaims of disappointment after finding out that someone like a stalker had never existed. It was Yeosang who had been trying to become his best friend again, and Wooyoung would have let it happen if it was not in vain. _But just once, smile at them for real, before you regret it later,_ he thought to himself and smiled, he really smiled.

‘Remember to open the letter only when you’re home, alright?’ 

Yeosang nodded excitedly. ‘I’m so curious, I think I’ll explode. But I promise I’ll wait until I’m home.’ He winked.

‘Goodbye.’ Wooyoung said. _Goodbye, for real._

Yeosang grinned at him, showing all his teeth. Wooyoung thought of Hongjoong again, wondered if he had been going around smiling like that with San gone. Wooyoung sometimes wondered if Hongjoong hated him, after all he was responsible for this whole mess. Maybe it was better if he never knew, and then even Mingi smiled, just a little, but it was there, he saw it. Yeosang waved at him as they walked through the gate. Wooyoung was still smiling.

‘Woo!’ Yeosang yelled, holding up his graduation certificate. ‘We’re free now!’ 

Wooyoung actually laughed, but he laughed more to himself. He nodded and waved back. ‘Yes, we are.’

Then he closed the door, leaned against it and looked at his own certificate. He could have done better, but he had actually expected to get worse grades. He had made it eventually, had graduated. Just as Yeosang had said: They were free. Not happy in particular, but free. He let out a deep, deep sigh. It was like someone had taken a big burden off his shoulders. And there was a smile. A real smile, a genuine smile. A glance at the time on his phone, and Wooyoung was off in his room. All he had to do was shower, change into new clothes, and he was done. He had already prepared his backpack the night before.  He took it and left his house, did not look back, not once. There was no need to, no urge. If he did not look back at his home again, maybe he would forget it quicker. It was still cold outside, but the snow had vanished. Wooyoung was wearing the jacket San had bought him for his birthday, had worn it every day since. Even though he was not in a rush, Wooyoung still hurried to the bus station like it would get him to his destination quicker. There were dozens of busses waiting, some of them were leaving, some of them had just arrived. And one of them was waiting for Wooyoung. A sign stuck to the front window: _Tongyeong-si._

He got in, his seat was reserved, and twenty minutes after he got onto the bus, it left the station. Not many people were on it with Wooyoung, there was an elderly couple, a boy Wooyoung recognized from the graduation ceremony, and a woman in her late thirties or forties who sat all the way in the back, Wooyoung could hear her snivel from time to time, but he did not turn around to look. _Tongyeong._ A city on the southeastern coast and a trip across the whole country for Wooyoung. It would take him four hours and thirty minutes to get to his destination, and only when the traffic was good. But what difference did five hours make? He had never been to Tongyeong, but the pictures he saw on the internet excited him, and he could not wait for summer to come. Being at the coast in summer must be a completely different experience. Wooyoung smiled pleased and leaned back, put in his headphones and listened to the music that almost seemed like a background music in a movie, in _his_ movie. He wondered if it was over or if it had just begun. 

He saw the display of his phone light up. Yeosang was calling, and Wooyoung knew why, knew that it was because of the letter he had given him at the ceremony, but he did not answer the phone. It was better that way, and Yeosang would understand. The call ended unanswered, but he received a message.

_ ‘Until the day we meet again, friend.’ _

He smiled. Wooyoung sunk into his seat, looked out the window, observed how he got further and further away from Seoul. Yeosang was going to be alright. He for once had Mingi, and he had adapted to a life without Wooyoung in it. And, having graduated top of the class—Wooyoung wasn’t even jealous—and having enrolled in a great university, there would not have been much time for Wooyoung anyway. So it was alright and Yeosang should finally start being the protagonist in his own life. 

When Wooyoung saw a few police cars drive by, he could not help but smile to himself. After he had come home, Wooyoung had to go to the police station a few times to settle things, and even after everything was normal again, Detective Jeong still did not believe Wooyoung and his beautiful, beautiful lies. But something about him was fascinating, and Wooyoung believed that, even though he had been blatantly lying to the detective, he did not hate Wooyoung for that. He actually seemed like a nice person, despite being the reason why San and Wooyoung had to split up in the first place. Wooyoung had never forgiven him for that, but he would do so real soon. In the end, it was probably better that Wooyoung had come home after all, even if it had caused them awful wounds that desperately waited for their treatment. After the things around Wooyoung’s case had settled down and people finally stopped asking about San’s whereabouts too, Detective Park had taken a short break from work. Wooyoung had never spoken to him about San directly, but they understood each other, and while Wooyoung did not know how he found out about their relationship, he understood that he had tried everything to protect them. When he thanked him for everything after closing the case, the detective had smiled at him knowingly, and said he was sorry he had to go through this. Wooyoung understood he was not referring to the situation with his parents. A few weeks later, Wooyoung believed he saw him inside the little café that he and San used to go to, but he never got himself to set a foot inside it without him, so he was not one hundred percent sure. But it got him thinking about the employee there, and he wondered if he had found a person who loved him unconditionally. 

And well, there _he_ was, Wooyoung, on his way into a city he did not know, in the middle of February. And he was alone, no day had passed where he did not think about San, did not think about this very day, and he was nervous, his heart was pounding, hands were sweating even though it was not particularly hot. 

He just missed him. He missed San to the extend where it hurt, and Wooyoung wanted to stop hurting, wanted to make San stop hurting. He never thought he was capable of having such strong feelings for someone. Sometimes, right before Wooyoung would fall asleep, the picture of them both kissing popped up in his head and he was wide awake again, with the lingering feeling of San’s lips on his own, his soft lips, and his cold hands around Wooyoung’s waist. He had gone through countless of sleepless nights, knowing that there was no one to warm San’s hands. It broke his heart. Sometimes he wanted to cry so badly, sometimes he already felt his eyes fill with tears, but he remembered the promise he had given San just before they parted ways, and he managed to hold them back every time. _Don’t cry,_ San had said to him, _promise me you won’t cry, because we’ll see each other again._ Wooyoung trusted San, because unlike Wooyoung, he never lied.

Thinking about him made it difficult for Wooyoung to find sleep again. He closed his eyes, but he immediately had to open them again because he was nervous, thought he might miss something. But he was tired, and thinking over and over again how he was supposed to fall asleep, he eventually drifted into dream land. 

He felt something, some_one_ touch him, shake his shoulder. His eyes popped open, the person he recognized as the bus driver was talking to him, but all Wooyoung could hear was the music coming from his headphones and the man’s lips matching the words of the song. Wooyoung smiled at that, then he panicked a little, because why was the bus driver not driving the bus but rather standing next to Wooyoung, still not letting go of his shoulder? He then realized the bus was not moving and Wooyoung finally took out his headphones.

‘Young man!’ Frustration in his voice. ‘Please get out of the bus, we’ve reached the destination and I need to get going.’

They had already arrived? Wooyoung looked out the window, he blinked a few times, then he nodded quickly and apologized before he took his stuff and left the bus. The air was fresh, the sun was already waving goodbye and there still were little piles of snow here and there. His heart was pounding aggressively.

Wooyoung had to take another bus to get to the little village that he had written down in the notes app on his phone. The sun was setting, it was getting even colder, but he did not mind as he was too focused on his way, too focused on his destination. He could see the sea, it was calm and maybe it even looked a little sad, but Wooyoung blamed the weather for it. He could not wait to go around the city, check out all the different spots. Find a new café and a new favorite cake. It took him maybe ten minutes from the bus station into the village. It was a fairly small village and Wooyoung had to think of Yeosang’s neighborhood. He liked it immediately. He saw a few stray cats, maybe some of them belonged to someone. Not many people passed him, but they all seemed so happy, and Wooyoung was not quite sure if he only imagined it or if they really were happy. Wooyoung found it quite easy to get around here, and then he saw it, the house that corresponded to the address on his notes. 

At its first glance alone, the little house was much better than his old home, cute almost, and a little old. He walked through the gate, it was left open, and he could already hear voices coming from behind. One of it was a cheerful, childish voice. Next to the front door there were cardboard boxes, some of them were a little wet, but the plastic roof in the entrance area had protected them from suffering more damage. He sadly did not know what was in them. Wooyoung chose not to knock on the door but to rather follow the voices, leading him along the side of the house until he reached the back of it, where he saw a bank, a little table with an action figure on it that he remembered quite well. And then, next to the bank, he saw _them,_ playing with other action figures until the little one facing him noticed Wooyoung.

‘Oh!’ Yoojin’s voice was full of surprise. ‘Hyung came to visit!’

The man crouching in front of him got onto his knees, he turned around, eyes wide. His shoulders dropped just at the same time as Wooyoung let his backpack slide to the ground. His eyes were glistening, the spark that he had missed so badly was finally back. His mouth stood open a little, breathing Wooyoung’s name, but no voice came out. 

This time no one was going to look for him. He was an adult, and maybe people already suspected him of leaving yet again. But that was not the only aspect that was different this time. He was not leaving because he wanted the whole world to look at him, but because he was looking for his very own world. And there it was, in front of him, his whole world, everything he needed. His hair was a dark brown, and Wooyoung loved it, loved it almost more than the white hair, but was he not cold? He was not wearing a jacket, just a simple black hoodie. 

But Wooyoung still smiled at him. ‘It’s cold. You should wear a warmer jacket or you’ll get sick.’

San smiled, remembering these words. He finally came closer, hand searching Wooyoung’s. His were so cold, but that was going to change. Wooyoung was finally there to warm them again. They stood close to each other, San put his forehead to Wooyoung’s. He had been right, San never lied. It felt like in an instant, Wooyoung was able to feel happiness again, and he was sure now, one hundred percent sure that it was the end of _his_ story, but it was the beginning of _theirs. _

And finally, finally San could stop crying for his wolf. 

_ To Kang Yeosang. _

_ Every day since I’ve come back, I wondered how you managed to look at me and smile. _

_ Was it not hard for you? _

_ To me, it was. _

_ I feel like it’s time for me to stop lying now.  _

_ I don’t feel guilty about what I did. I don’t feel guilty about lying to you, to my parents and eventually to the whole country.  _

_ I don’t feel guilty because I was happy.  _

_ I’m not happy right now. So in order to change this, I decided to be selfish again, and leave _

_ everything and everyone behind for a second time. But this time, I won’t lie about it, and I won’t come back. _

_ I know where I can find my happiness, I know where I don’t feel neglected. _

_ I want to return to that place. To that person. _

_ I know I’ve hurt you a lot in the past, and I will now stop doing that. _

_ But maybe, Yeosang, and this is an advice I can give you: _

_ Be a little selfish from time to time.  _

_ Too much compassion, Yeosang, will only hurt you in the end. Sometimes you have to put yourself before others, _

_ because you are the most important person in your life. _

_ If we should meet again, I want you to tell me to my face that I was an asshole. _

_ This time I‘ll say goodbye to you, and not just vanish. I’ll be happy, so you should be, too. _

_ Goodbye. Wooyoung. _

End of _The Boy Who Cried Wolf: Chrysalis _

_ _

_By [ibookahyun](https://twitter.com/ibookahyun) (cutest baby in the world). _

_Thank you SO much for everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we’ve reached it! The end of TBWCW! I’d love to hear you guys’ thoughts about it, especially about the ending. I had difficulties planning it, and I changed it up multiple times. My first ideas would’ve made this story a super dark one, which it should’ve been from the beginning, but I think I like it the way it is.  
The story has lots of flaws, I’m aware of that, and I’d do lots of things differently now. But I guess that’s the whole point of writing: Making progress. And I think I’ve accomplished that. I’m happy I finally put this story that has been in my head for years now to an end! And maybe, only maybe—no promises made—there’ll be a second part, or a sequel to this story...Ideas are coming in. . .  
I met so so many wonderful people through this story, it’s amazing, and I wouldn’t trade these people for anything in this world—It’s getting cheesy here. I put a lot of effort in this story, but it never felt like a burden because it was so much fun and I received so much help from other people. 
> 
> I thank you all for your wonderful support, you guys have been amazing and it was thanks to you that this story was completed. Whenever someone told me they were now looking forward to Mondays just because of my updates, I got the biggest ego boost in the history of ego boosts, and it felt amazing. I hope this story made some of you smile.
> 
> Should there be open questions about the story or anything, I’ll be gladly answering them here in the comment section or if you want on my curious cat ([OhPoeticMilk](https://curiouscat.me/OhPoeticMilk)).
> 
> Don’t miss me, guys, and don’t forget me ok or I’ll cry haha. I’ll be back sooner than you think. And probably darker than you think! Y’all had luck with a Happy End this time, let’s see how long this lasts. *evil smirk*  
If you don’t wanna miss out on my story planning or, more importantly, on new releases, you can follow my twitter ([OhPoeticMilk](https://twitter.com/OhPoeticMilk)) or you just keep an eye on my account on here.
> 
> I’ll stop being more dramatic than I should be now. Thank you guys again..  
And I guess I’ll see you with a new story, soon, very soon!
> 
> Love you all ♡  
Your PoeticMilk


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